


All We Ever Had

by tiivinen



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Historical Hetalia, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-08 06:10:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 86,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3198335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiivinen/pseuds/tiivinen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We are products of our past, but we don't have to be prisoners of it." Finland and Estonia have been at the mercy of the great powers for most of their existence. This is a story about them, and the rest of the Baltic Finns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Prologue

Estonia stared the Baltic Sea. It was a windy day of early fall. Dark grey and heavy clouds painted the view with their own gloomy colours which the sea mirrored. Despite this, Estonia thought the scenery was very beautiful, in its own way. He wasn't one for eternal sunshine and still waters. Maybe he would've been, if not his struggles growing up. The waves of the sea danced a savage dance, made by the equally violent storm winds. Trees joined in this vehement play, their braches made to dance like it was some sort of a macabre puppet show.

Estonia took a deep breath. This was who he was. This was what he was alive for. The change. It had moulded him, tested him, made him stronger. It defined him to the very core. He was neither the strongest nation, nor the bravest. While he was smart, he also had to admit he wasn't the only intelligent one in the world. But he had his perseverance. An ability to withstand almost everything. He was a small nation in the world of giants, giants, who didn't give a thought to others but themselves. Giants, who had been, quite literally, out there to get him. Against all odds here he still was, still himself, if not missing a few pieces.

 _Yes_ , Estonia thought _, I am still here. I am still here, and I am going to get better_.

While the age of the giants might not be over – and truly it would probably never be – but at least his personal Goliath had fallen, and he hadn't fallen with it. The very air itself smelled sweeter than it did mere months ago, when he had still been in a fear of retribution. But now it was over, or rather a beginning, for Russia had signed his declaration of sovereignty.

With a certain amount of pure glee Estonia thought what this must mean for Russia, for Soviet Union. A simple act of signing was a significant message to the world; once a mighty, almost omnipotent force was actually just glass cannon, prone to shatter in a slightest struggle. Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania were at last free in the truest definition of the word.

 _My brothers and I have a future again_ , Estonia thought. It felt good, calling somebody a brother.

The Baltic nations, or the Baltic brothers, as they were known, were not perhaps true kin, but their bond was welded by the shared history and adversities they had faced together. They were made blood brothers of a sort, not because they had decided to slash their palms and to swear blood oaths, but because someone had shed their blood for them.

A slight drizzle interrupted his thoughts. The sky was grey as ever, but far out in the sea clouds had parted allowing in faint rays of sunshine. There, far in horizon, above the Gulf of Finland, was a rainbow. Estonia could not help but a smile at that. It was only appropriate that a rainbow would point across the gulf. He after all was very well aware that his pot of gold was in fact on the other side of the sea.

 _Though Finland would probably punch me if he ever heard me call him 'a pot of gold'_ , Estonia smirked.

His mirth was short-lived. Thinking about Finland always raised a dozen conflicting emotion in him. There was no doubt that he loved Finland, and he thought – or at least, had thought – that his love was returned in equal measure.

The fate had kept them apart, he had thought. Bests of friends since the beginning of their very existence, always together and enjoying each others company until powers greater than any of them had torn them apart, only to be briefly brought back together by those same forces. Estonia did not have faith in many things – only a fool would have, with his past – but he had always had faith in knowing that this latest separation between them would come to an end in a one way or another.

So when he and his brothers had risen in defiance against Russia, he had excitingly invited Finland to Tallinn to share his pursuit of freedom and self-rule. But when Finland had come, it was not at all in the same manner when the Nordic nation had previously arrived to aid in Estonia's War of Independence decades past.

Finland had looked pale and stern, not at all like his usual kind self. He had sat in chair, not even saying 'hello' first and asked in serious voice: 'what are you doing Viro?' Estonia remembers that conversation vividly, how he had explained in a barely restrained voice of zeal how now would be his chance – their change – of getting rid a once so potent oppressor. He had asked for Finland's help. Finland had sat there, silent and serious, until he had only said: 'you must understand, now isn't the best time to rock the boat'.

And that was it. That was the extent of the help of his neighbour, of his best friend, of his lover. Estonia grimaced. Three years after, and a mere recollection of that particular memory made him physically sick to his stomach. He had begged help, and he was ignored by the person he had thought had loved him.

But despite all that, Estonia couldn't fault him too much. After all, it was Soviet Union he had gone against, and that was no small feat. It was just that he had thought that Finland was… better, he supposed.

Finland had always been stronger of the two, in both spirit and strength. Estonia had looked up to Finland, especially since the Nordic nation had managed to escape the fate that befell to Estonia. In the past, it had been him who had cowered while Finland had fought, and he had paid the price for that. And now it was time for him to fight, at last. He just always had imagined that in that moment he would have his best friend at his side.

Estonia could see his beloved face before him when he closed his eyes: his fair hair, his oddly coloured bilberry-blue eyes, his lovely smile and his tender gaze. He sighed and opened his eyes again. It was no-good to lose himself in images of someone he now knew he didn't have anymore.

Drizzle had turned into proper rain, but Estonia didn't mind, in fact it suited his mood rather well. The rainbow had also vanished, like a great symbol of his thoughts.

He and Finland were the same, had always been. Even back when the sea that separates them had truly been _their_ sea, when there still were other people in the world who he had truly called his kin – even then they had been the same.

 _Finland would call it sisu_ , he thought, and despite everything, that notion managed to bring a slim smile to his face.

They both had something others in their family did not have. Estonia had no noble word for it; he just knew both he and Finland never gave up, even when there was no chance of a good outcome. So many of their family were now dead, or worse. Estonia shuddered to think back the time when he had last visited Karelia. A once beautiful, cheerful, motherly nation had been driven mad by the centuries of war that had ravaged her lands. Her once glossy and curly auburn hair had turned into matted mess, her light green eyes looking quite dead.

After centuries of being pushed and pulled in variety of directions by strong nations – mainly Russia and Sweden – she was still being juggled between Finland and Russia as both owned a part of her lands. Estonia had seen her when he still lived in the same house with her. When she was with Russia, she was either catatonic or in fits of crazed rage, so Russia mostly kept her behind locked doors.

And while Estonia pitied her, he also knew nothing he could do would make her better. He had eventually stopped seeing her, just to save himself of the hurt and other raw, primal feelings those meeting would raise. Karelia's situation wasn't much better when she had to live with Finland. Finland had told Estonia that when she was with him, she mostly cried and madly begged again and again to be allowed 'to become one with Russia'.

Her fate was a sad affair, and it made the fates of other people in Finnic family look better, even when most of them now were dead.

 _What a depressing thought_ , Estonia mused. But it was the truth. He wouldn't wish Karelia's condition to his worst enemy. He himself would rather be dead than insane.

He had been standing in the rain too long. He was soaked to his underwear and wind had started to affect him. At some point he had started shivering, but had not noticed, so immersed he had been in his thoughts. His apartment – thankfully – wasn't far.

A small trek later he got home. He undressed quickly, but did not find the energy to properly hang his clothes to dry. Usually he was a bit of a neat freak, but now he felt that rain had washed him of everything, drained him of his very self. He barely had energy to light fire in his fireplace before he dropped to the floor with a blanket wrapped tightly around him.

He felt odd. Too light and too heavy at the same time. This day should've been the culmination of his long struggle, a new beginning, yet all he could think about was the past. Finland and his brother Tavastia, Karelia and her sister Ingria, his own brother Livonia, and the lone wolf Vepsia. Faces of the long dead haunted him.

Karelia, in her prime had been a fierce protector and at the same time, a kind mother-like figure to them. She had loved them all, but most of all her little sister Ingria, who herself had been anything but a timid little creature needing of protecting.

Finland and Tavastia could've been identical twins, if it wasn't for their wildly different personalities. Estonia never had trouble to see which one was which, even if most people did. If not for anything else, the almost constant scowl on Tavastia's face was a dead giveaway.

Livonia, his _big brother_ , as the other nation had wanted Estonia to call him, was the only one of the bunch who didn't raise any fond feelings, quite the opposite in fact. Livonia had been stronger, faster and wittier, and had never missed an opportunity to rub it in. He had turned his back to Estonia when the younger nation had needed him the most, being obsessed by his own might and influence without a thought to others. It made him powerful for awhile, but like the brightest candles often do, he had quickly burned himself out.

Then lastly there had been Vepsia, who Estonia had never known very well, who had never quite fit in. They had been mere children when he had died, but Estonia can still remember his curly golden hair and his round, freckled face.

 _To die at a such young age_ , Estonia mulled. And at the hands of the very man who was also responsible for much of Estonia's own troubles.

 _Or all of them_ , he thought grimly. Russia certainly was the great villain of the history of any Finnic nation. _Or any nation_ , he concluded, though he knew it wasn't fair.

Russia had, in a bout of drunken confession years ago admitted how awful he felt about the deaths he had caused. It had truly boggled Estonia's mind at the time. He had always thought Russia's mad quest of conquering the world would de facto result in a death of all other nations of the world, perhaps excluding his sisters. But that did not seem to be the case, which in Estonia's mind made Russia even crazier than what he previously thought to be the case.

Russia had been quite shaken by the deaths of Ingria and Vepsia, and the madness of Karelia. He had even sung an old and doleful Russian folk song that told about the deaths of Baltic Finns at the hands of his people. Estonia had listened, patiently, and when the morning had came, he tactfully and wisely appeared to forget the night before had ever happened. So had Russia.

He shivered, hoping he wouldn't catch a cold from standing too long in the rain. This was the night of his triumph, and there he was, pathetically lying on the floor, remembering things that should've been forgotten long ago. He knew all this, but still he couldn't let it go. The past was there with him, whispering in his ears about regrets and sorrows.

But if he couldn't tune it out, he could at least tone it down. Estonia sat up, opened a cupboard and took out a bottle of vodka.

 _There goes that promise,_ he thought. He had indeed promised to himself that he would stop drinking, since there would be no time to sit around being foggy-minded when there was simply so much to _do_. He knew much of Europe expected him to be ecstatic of his newly found freedom – hell, _he_ had thought he'd be jumping with joy. Instead, he felt old beyond his years and weary to the bone.

 _But things will get better_ , he promised to himself, _this night might belong to the past, but tomorrow will be future's!_


	2. In the Beginning

He did not know when he had been born – or whether or not he had actually been _born_ at all – but he remembers wandering the land, feeling it, breathing it. The memories of those very early days were a bit hazy, but he remembers the feeling of being one with the land, animals taking care of him, giving him food and shelter, anything he needed to survive. He also very faintly remembers warmth and a feeling of being loved, the kind, motherly words of encouragement and a soft embrace – though he isn't quite sure if this memory was real, or something he made up in his loneliness.

He still remembers the loneliness. It had saturated his every thought, his every action. When he had snuggled down with a bear in its winter nest, belly full of berries and fish, ready for hibernation with his furry friend like he did every winter, there had been the same odd feeling in the back of his mind that had been bothering him for some time now. A hunger no amount of food would ease, a weariness that would not go away with rest. He had been hollow inside, missing something important – yet at the time he had no idea what that something could be.

After a month or two his rest had come to a rude awakening. His home for the winter had been attacked. It had been in the middle in the winter, too early for him to be up, when the ceiling of nest had been ripped open. The bear had been killed instantly, too groggy to put up a proper fight. He had sat in the nest, drenched in the blood of his now dead animal companion, looking up in terror at this new threat.

He had seen beings so much like himself. Oddly, after that he had not been afraid, despite of what they had done to his poor bear friend. The Smelly Breath Honey-Paw had been an old bear, a mother of eight fine cubs in the past, now all grown up. He had seen death before to know that it was a rule of the nature for the old ones to make way for the new generation.

The hunters on the other hand, had been terrified. They had after all found a strange child in the bear's nest, a child that did not cry or scream, or even look frightened. Half of the group wanted to kill him at once, while others said they should just leave both the boy and the dead bear there, and run away as fast as possible. But the leader of the hunting group had been adamant: the child was a gift from the ancestors, the spirits that now walked the earth in the form of a bear.

And so the blond boy had been taken to live with people. He had been given a name, Tenho, because the tribe found him to be a rather appealing child, always smiling and ready to laugh. For the first time since he could remember, Tenho hadn't felt lonely.

But it did not last. He had soon realised that he was different from the people who took care of him. They grew up while he stayed young. They had children of their own, grew old and died, while he lived on, same as ever.

The people, _his_ people, had realised this before him. When he had asked them about this, they had explained to him that everything in this world had a spirit, a core, which they called _haltija_ s. Haltija was a guardian spirit, a soul – or sometimes a simply an inner power of a being. The oldest and most powerful of these spirits were considered gods, rulers of the other haltijas. The lesser haltijas were known as _väki_ , meaning both the spirit folk and their power that could be commanded through rune singing. His people had told him that like there were haltijas of the sea, the ground and the forest, there also must be a haltija of the land and people.

Tenho had at first doubted this. Wouldn't he know if he was a haltija? But after a while he had realised that as much as he was this land his people called Suomi, he also was everything else the land contained, including the people living there. When they had starved, he also had fallen ill. And when they had started to flourish, he had at last grown taller and older. He had had to accept his fate: he more than just Tenho, he was a guardian and a soul of this land. He truly was Suomi.

* * *

This newly found knowledge did not satisfy Finland. On the contrary, it made him yet again feel the old hollowness deep inside him. He felt like there was something else in this world, something he couldn't see or feel, but still could sense and yearn. It made him anxious and nervous, and he couldn't even take consolidation in the fact that his people were thriving. They were cultivating the land and raising livestock, growing enough food to feed everybody, and then some.

Finland knew there were other people in the world besides his tribe. He had seen others come to his land, and he knew his own people sometimes travelled to trade. But when a group of traders from the south had come to make business as usual, he sensed something both foreign and familiar. Amidst of older men stood a child. Somehow Finland could feel with his every sense that the child was not like others.

The boy turned around, like he too had sensed something off. Their eyes locked, bilberry blue eyes met forest green, both as wide as possible. Like in dream they both hurried to meet each other, but when they were at arms length away, both suddenly stopped. Finland was unexpectedly feeling very nervous, like his continued existence was dependent on if the other boy liked him or not. He had never felt like that before.

"Hello. I'm Suomi, but you can call me Tenho", Finland said, extending his arm in greeting.

The other boy winced, like he had something very odd.

"You gave me your birth name?" boy asked, his speech sounding very odd to Finland, like he was deliberately shortening his words, making him hard to understand. Finland had no idea what a birth name was, and he told that to the other boy.

"You aren't supposed to tell your birth name to others, they can command you with them! And you're a haldja like me, aren't you?"

"I suppose so…" Finland answered, now feeling quite timid.

"Haldjas of the land aren't supposed to tell their birth name to _anyone_. A skilled singer can ruin your whole tribe through you!"

Now Finland was feeling very scared. He couldn't believe nobody had told him that before. His people could be destroyed, just because he had been overjoyed to meet someone like himself. The other boy saw his obvious distress, and tried to console him: "Don't worry, I didn't mean to scare you! I would never do that to you, I swear! I'm Virumaa".

"You're Viro, of the south?" Finland said, trying to be polite, but stilll really shaken about what the other land had said.

"Yes, that's what your people call me, like mine call you Soome. And I really didn't mean to scare you! …Tell you what, I'll tell you my birth name in return, so then we know both of our names, and promise to never use them in spells against each other."

The green-eyed boy now seemed nervous too. Finland just nodded, a bit faintly.

"My birth name is Ehtuan", Estonia said.

"Nice to meet you", Finland said with a faint smile, feeling much better. He had a hunch they would become good friends.

* * *

After meeting Estonia, Finland felt the need to seek others like them. His people were sad to see him go, but Finland was happy to be wandering again, feeling the land the way he had in the past. He hadn't realised how much his connection to nature had faded during the years he had spent with his tribe. Now that the bond was again fully renewed he understood how much in fact he had missed the feeling, vowing to himself he would never again to let it fade, even if it meant he had to move to live further away from his people.

The animals begun to seek him out again, rather than scurrying away at the sight of him. They even seemed just as happy to see him as he was to see them. He even petted a curious fox despite the smell, just because it let him.

His journey took him to north, a strange pull guiding his way. The forest hadn't changed, but he felt the exact moment he stepped into the strange land like a visible line had been drawn to the ground. He still felt his surroundings, but not in the same familiar way. These forests felt a bit more …wild.

As he travelled deeper into this strange land, he also came to be aware of a presence. It was still a bit faint, but he was clearly going to the right direction, and it excited him.

He walked for days, but he never seemed to pin point where exactly he should be looking. After a while, he started to get weary. The otherness of the forest tailed away, as did his excitement.

After a long trek, he wanted nothing more than to plunge on the middle of a meadow to rest. He didn't need to make a camp, knowing no animal wanted him harm. But just as he was about to fell sleep, he felt how the wild flowers suddenly grew and tangled around his limbs, binding him to the ground. He felt trapped, and for a moment he felt naked terror coursing through his veins, making him trash in his binds.

"That won't help. I sung them strong", a voice said. It startled Finland, and he froze. He couldn't lift his head, so he couldn't see the speaker.

"You have been walking on my lands, seeking me."

"Could you unhand me?"

"No! You have to answer my questions first!"

"I mean you no harm, please believe me. I'm Suomi. I live in the south west from here."

A silence met his words.

"Hello?" Finland called out, momentarily fearing the other had left, leaving him bound in the woods on his own. But after a while the vegetation loosened, granting him the movement of his limbs again. He sat up, expecting to find the little clearing abandoned. But it wasn't. A young boy leaned against the tree. Finland couldn't quite believe his own eyes. The boy looked very much like himself. He was just as old and of the same height. He had a very similar wild hair, even if it was a bit darker. Even his eyes were oddly purple in colour. They could've been identical twins.

"You're the neighbouring land. I've heard of you from your people. We must be brothers", the other boy said, even mirroring his thoughts.

"Brothers?" Finland asked, faintly.

"Well, yes. Isn't it obvious?" the boy asked, rolling his eyes like Finland was being difficult on purpose. "We live right next to each other, speak the same language, look very much the same, what else we could be?"

Finland didn't know if he agreed, especially about the part of the speaking the same language. The other boy's speech was complete opposite of Estonia's, for he drew out every word, quite needlessly in Finland's mind.

"Don't brothers usually like… grow up together and live together?"

The other boy frowned, and said back bitingly: "yes, if they're humans, they do. Now we aren't humans, are we?"

Finland was a bit taken back, but he couldn't deny the truth in the words.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"You haven't heard of me? It figures, with those soft herders of yours, undoubtedly scared witless of me and my lot. I'm Häme."

"Nice to meet you, Häme", Finland just said, ignoring the barb. He had in fact heard of Tavastia and his people. His own tribe had described the land as endless backwoods, almost void of any inhabitants. He thought to best to leave that unmentioned.

"It's nice to have a brother. Those stupid girls in the east always try to make me feel bad about not having a sibling. Hah! Shows what they know!"

This perked Finland up.

"Girls in the east? There's more people like us?" he asked excitingly.

"Well, yeah. Have you been living under a rock? There's bunch of us around the sea. Karjala, Inkeri, although those two are a bit of air heads, but that probably just comes with being a girl… and then there's Vepsä, but he's a wanker."

Finland was a bit shocked to hear Tavastia talk like that about the people he so much wanted to meet, but managed to swallow his retorts in favour of asking more information: "And others?"

"Not that I've met any. I hear there's people in the south. And in the west, but those aren't like us at all. The old lady that sometimes visits me says they speak a dozen of mangled languages no one can learn!"

"And the old lady? Who's she?"

"Oh yeah, forgot about her. She calls herself Sapmí, but I call her just Lappi, because… well that's what she is. She lives way in the north, but sometimes travels to the south."

Finland was fascinated. All these lands, all these people he never met, and now he could. He could barely contain his joy.

"Could you show me the others?"

"Show you the others? I don't know…" Tavastia said, voice full of uncertainty. But then his eyes brightened, and a crafty expression rose on his face.

"I could travel to the east with you, to see the girls. I can't wait to see the dumb shock on their faces when they meet you! Right, it's settled! We'll leave tomorrow morning!

"By the way, do you have a proper name? A brother should know that. Mine's Taisto", Tavastia added as an after thought.

For a slight moment Finland considered not telling the other his name, the meeting with Estonia still fresh in his mind. Tavastia had given his own with out a thought, though, and in the end, Finland decided to follow suit.

"I'm Tenho. I'm so glad I met you!"

* * *

As the time went by, Finland met others like him. The more haltijas – or lands, as some of them called themselves – he met, the happier he felt. The old hollowness inside him slowly subsided until he could no longer feel it at all. But no matter who he met, or how much he liked them, none was as dear to him as his first friend, Estonia.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> f you're a bit confused by the names, I can assure you there's a reason why they're different from the original ones. "Tino" and "Eduard" aren't very Finnish or Estonian, so in my story both of them had different names in the beginning. When their lands were taken over, also their names changed, Tenho becoming Tino, and Ehtuan Eduard. (Tenho means "Allure" in Finnish, Ehtuan is based on the Finnish and Estonian words "ehta" and "ehtne" both meaning genuine, Taisto means "battle" in Finnish)
> 
> In the same way Estonia says his name is Virumaa instead Eesti (Eesti as a word being of foreign origin. No, Virumaa isn't the original name for Estonia, but a name for one of its counties. I just thought this might explain why Finland still calls him "Viro" instead of "Eesti")
> 
> "Words of creation" or "birth names" (= syntysanat in Finnish) is a real concept in the Finnic mythology: if you know how something came to be, you can also control it by explaining its origins to it ("it" being animals, or minerals, or people). Also, Estonian Haldja and Finnish Haltija are pretty much the same.


	3. Happiness Is Only Real If Shared

A content sigh escaped Estonia's lips. It was a perfect summer day. A sun was shining and the meadow he was lying on was full of wild flowers. He could smell a variety of pleasant scents. His people were also thriving, making him feel like he was a health personified. He felt warm and relaxed, his belly full of wild berries he had found earlier in the forest.

Finland was lying beside him, their heads almost touching. Estonia idly petted the grass, considering how Finland would react if he reached for his hand. It was right there, he knew, just a few centimetres away. Slowly he let his hand feel around in the vegetation, creeping closer to the place he thought Finland's hand would be. After all, if the other boy did pull his hand away, Estonia could always say it was just a silly mishap, right?

"I saw him again", Finland suddenly said, making Estonia's hand stand still.

"Who?" He asked a bit absent-mindedly.

"That tall land, Ruotsi."

Estonia pulled back his hand, the conversation abruptly making him decide against his earlier plan. He frowned and turned his head to look at Finland.

"He's snooping around our gulf again?"

"I wouldn't call it snooping… but he did seemed to be looking for something, yes. 'Scouting' would probably be a better word for it."

Estonia did not like what he heard. He hadn't liked Sweden much when he had met the other land, a few years back. Their people had already been trading with each other for a good while before, but only recently had Sweden begun to accompany his traders with their travels. When Estonia had met the other land, he had found him alarming, to say the least. Sweden had been only a bit older than Estonia, but his height had already been almost that of a fully grown man. It wasn't his frame that had distressed Estonia, though. It was his rather taciturn manner. His face gave nothing away, expression frozen in place like an unreadable mask. Estonia had found it very hard to meet the icy blue-green eyes of the other land.

Sweden had greeted him with a grunt and a nod, introduced himself with a grunt that had sounded like 'Svehlahd' to Estonia, and shortly after that, he had simply left. The whole discussion – if it really could be called that when it had mostly relied on one-sided vague sounds and pointing – had left Estonia feeling utterly uneasy and bemused. His feelings had only intensified when he had later learned that the tall land had also met Livonia, his brother, in a similar fashion.

"You didn't show yourself, did you?" Estonia asked, now a bit afraid of the answer.

"No… well not exactly."

"Not exactly? What does that mean, Soome?"

Finland hesitated for a while, making Estonia kind of anxious. Finland had turned on his side, half sitting now. But he still wasn't looking at his friend, his hands nervously pulling the weeds, much like Estonia had done earlier.

"I didn't want him to see me", Finland started at last, his voice low and soft, "but I was curious, too. I thought I could sneak in close, get a better look at him, and get away… But he seemed to… I don't know, to _sense_ me".

At that, Finland raised his head to look Estonia properly in the eyes.

"He somehow _knew_ I was there, though I didn't make a sound, I swear! You know how silent I can be, Viro."

And that Estonia knew very well, in fact. Finland was very good at moving like a ghost through the forest. They all were, but Finland was undoubtedly the best one of them all. But Estonia was also aware of the pull they sometimes felt, especially when being around with the others of their kind. It had after all been that very pull that had guided Estonia to the north, to the place where he had met Finland. They _were_ lands, as much they were separated beings. Everything that went on around them, they felt, more or less.

"You didn't think that if you could sense him, he could probably feel your presence as well?" Estonia asked with a sigh.

Now Finland looked very sheepish. He clearly hadn't. Estonia swallowed his groan. Finland was a very dear friend, but sometimes he could be infuriatingly naïve.

"So he saw you?" Estonia pressed on, wanting to hear Finland say it.

"Yeah… He saw me."

"And? Then what happened?"

"What do think happened? I didn't exactly stay there and chat, now did I? I ran away of course, as quickly as I could. He tried to chase me, but he wasn't very quick, or agile. It was easy to lose him in the woods."

_That's something, at the least_ , Estonia thought. Now that Sweden was aware of Finland, though, it wouldn't be very difficult to track him down, if the other land so wished. And Sweden hardly seemed like a type that would just let things be.

"Why are you so quiet? Are you mad at me?"

Estonia pushed his thoughts away. Finland had sat all the way up, and his hands were wringing around his wrists fretfully. His eyes were wide and timid, almost hidden by the curtain of his wild fair hair.

Estonia's heart melted at the scene. Yes, Finland might sometimes be both incredibly foolhardy, as well as maddeningly naïve, but that also made him _him_. He was a gentle soul, kind-hearted and always ready to help others to the best of his ability. But he rarely paused to think about the possible repercussions of his actions.

_And that's why we make a such a good team_ , Estonia thought fondly _, he's the doer, and I'm the thinker in our little duo._

Estonia sat up, too. He reached for Finland's hands to stop their nervous movement, gently tugging them to release the grip the other land had over his own wrists. Finland let go, and Estonia wasted no time to take hold of his hands.

"I'm not mad, not at all… I couldn't be mad at you", Estonia said, smiling warmly at his friend. The fluster of Finland seemed to melt away with these words, and he returned Estonia's smile with one of his own.

"But you got to be more careful, in the future. Not every strange land has your best in mind, right?" he continued, sounding slightly more serious despite his unbroken smile.

"I promise, Viro", Finland vowed, he too sounding sincere even with his happy look.

And even though his perfect day had been interrupted by the worry over his dearest friend, now that Estonia sat there, holding hands and smiling with Finland, he couldn't think a way it could be made better. And just as that thought crossed his mind, he did in fact, come up a way to make things even better.

Before he could really think it over and question his plan, Estonia just decided to go for it, and leaned forward to plant a kiss on Finland's plump lips. It lasted only for a moment, being more like a peck than a real kiss, but it had lingered enough for Estonia to feel the softness and warmth of his friend's lips under his own.

Finland on the other hand, was clearly stunned. A flush had crept on his face to accompany his wide eyes and the surprised o-shape of his mouth. To Estonia he looked innocent and endearing, and absolutely beautiful. The soft blush on his friend's cheeks made him want to steal another kiss before Finland woke up from his stupor. A lightning quick decision later, he leaned in to do just that.

"You're going to kiss him _again_?"

Estonia jumped away in surprise. Both boys turned towards the sound at the edge of the clearing.

"Inkeri! This meant 'we should go away quietly!'" a tall red haired girl yelled to a younger blonde one, waving her hand in wild, jerky gesture.

The shorter girl, Ingria, just rolled her eyes.

"Don't you roll your eyes at me!"

"Whatever Karjala, stop acting like you're my mom, you're only a bit older than me."

Karelia huffed in indignation, and murmured: "I'll remember that the next time you want to sleep in the same bed with me because of a bad dream or a scary storm".

"Shut it, shut it!" Ingria hissed, turning back to the boys to see if they had heard what her sister had said. Karelia's expression changed, too. The annoyed look gave way for the wide, if a bit forced smile. She grabbed Ingria's hand, and started tugging her in attempt to flee the awkward scene.

"Don't mind us at all, really, go right back doing your thing, what ever it is…" she babbled while dragging the clearly uncooperative Ingria behind her towards the woods, "we'll tell the others you've something more pressing to do… We'll just go back to the camp now".

"No, wait!" Finland shouted, quickly standing up and taking a few steps away from Estonia "I'll go with you!"

Estonia felt crushed. Had the kiss been so horrible to the other land, that he rather fled with the two girls than walk back with Estonia, his best friend?

"What, really?" Karelia asked in disbelief. "You wouldn't rather stay here to…?"

At that, she did a little motion with her finger between the two boys, then seemed to realise it was highly inappropriate giving the circumstance. She turned as red as her wild, frizzy hair.

Finland blushed slightly too, but laughed it off and walked past the two young girls, towards the edge of the clearing. Ingria and Karelia took the hint; the matter wouldn't be discussed any further, and especially Karelia seemed to be kind of relieved. They both followed Finland.

Estonia felt light-headed, even though his feet felt heavy, like they were trapped in a deep bog, and his heart seemed to work over time. There he was, watching his friend hurrying to get away from him, trying to get as much distance between them as possible.

_I shouldn't have done it, I knew it was stupid_ , Estonia lashed at himself, blaming himself, like he should have seen it coming.

Now Finland was walking away, and he had probably ruined their friendship for forever, just because he had felt the need to touch, to hold hands, to kiss… To do the things he had seen the grown-ups of his people doing. They might be just children physically, but they had lived for far longer than the oldest humans alive, seeing all kinds if human behaviour. It had made Estonia curious.

And his curiosity had made Finland flee, instead of making them closer to one another. Estonia let his shoulders slump, feeling overwhelmed by his thoughts. He watched as Finland walked away without hesitation. The blond boy walked straight to the forest's edge, and then paused to wait up. Karelia and Ingria reached him, and he smiled back at them. And then Finland raised his head towards Estonia. He seemed puzzled.

"Why are you still there? Aren't you coming back with us?" Finland yelled at Estonia over the clearing.

It was simple question really, but to Estonia, it was like he could breathe again after being submerged for too long. No, nothing was ruined, lest of their friendship.

"I'm coming, just wait a bit", Estonia shouted back, and ran to Finland with a brilliant smile on his face.

Finland smiled back at him. And if the smile and the situation were both little awkward, Estonia didn't care at all. His earlier thoughts were now a tad silly to him, even a complete overreaction on his part, one might argue. But he didn't care. All was well, or would be.

"Let's go back, I'm sure Liivi and Vepsä are missing us already", Finland said, turning his back to the meadow again and starting to walk back home.

Estonia huffed. It was very unlikely that Livonia or Vepsia had missed them. If anything, it was rather a gross overstatement, since one of them could be happy if he never met anybody again, and the other was so utterly self-absorbed that he probably hadn't even noticed they had been gone. But Estonia didn't feel the need to correct the other land; he was just too happy they were still friends despite all what had happened earlier.

"Lead on!" he said and followed Finland and the girls to the woods.

* * *

The perfect day had been followed by a very nearly perfect evening. Estonia, Finland, Ingria and Karelia had walked back to the Finland's little cottage, and like Estonia had suspected, Vepsia and Livonia hadn't exactly been worried about them.

Livonia had been dozing on the haystack next to Finland's hut, basking in the sun like big lazy cat, a content little smirk on his handsome face. He had barely noticed their return, ignoring them in favour of a slight stretch of his limbs before falling asleep again. Estonia sighed. Livonia was the laziest person he had ever met, and if there was any justice in the world, also the only lazy and cheeky oaf he would ever meet in his life.

Unfortunately for Estonia, Livonia and he were neighbours, and even more importantly, they were family. Not that Livonia was ultimately a bad person, no. He was fun loving and charming, witty, and even clever if needed, but he didn't take any matter seriously.

He was also unpredictable and highly unreliable. In an inhospitable northern part of Europe – where everyday life was a struggle against the forces of nature – the word was sometimes the only thing a man got in his name, and as such, it was not something taken lightly. A man not worth of his word was not respected. But Livonia commanded respect, not by his actions, but by his charismatic nature.

Livonia let out a little content simper in his sleep. His wavy light brown hair had spread like a strange halo around his head, making him oddly attractive even in the middle of an afternoon nap. Ingria and Karelia couldn't help but giggle at him.

Estonia rolled his eyes. Estonia had known Livonia the longest, and he wasn't fooled by his antics. The annoying twerp was most likely already wide awake and only putting on this show for the sake of his little fans, Karelia and Ingria. And Finland, by the looks of it, since he too was looking and smiling at Livonia fondly.

Vepsia on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen. It wasn't anything weird though, for the land had always been kind of a loner. Even in the midst of their meetings he would every now and then just abruptly disappear without a word, sometimes for an hour or a two, sometimes for days. Not that his presence had any effect one way or another, for even the times he was there he hardly spoke a word.

They had quickly started doing the preparations for evening: making food, gathering firewood and such. It came apparent to Estonia why Livonia was doing the act of fake sleep: it was simply for avoiding work. And he wasn't the only one. Not only was Livonia asleep, but both Vepsia and Tavastia were missing all the work. Tavastia hadn't arrived yet, and he probably wouldn't come for a few hours. Tavastia was in a habit of arriving late, always managing to miss out the preparation work for their celebrations.

It irritated Estonia greatly, but since the others didn't seem to be bothered by it, he decided to let things go. Though in the back in his mind he made a promise to himself that he would at least try to make Livonia, Vepsia and Tavastia work extra hard the next time they would gather in his place.

Vepsia came back just as they had finished most of their work. Estonia's irritation at him melted away when he realised the other land did not return empty handed. He carried several fishes with him, most of them perches, but there was a couple of breams as well, and a one respectable-sized pike. The other nation had even gutted the fish.

Karelia especially was excited, since pike was her favourite. She loudly thanked Vepsia repeatedly and hugged him before taking the fish. Vepsia blushed beet-red and managed a slight smile, seemingly very pleased at the attention, even if a bit overwhelmed by it.

Livonia, on the other hand, had had enough of his ruse, and made a big show of waking up with a big yawn. He even made comment how it was impossible to rest when the others insisted making such a racket. Estonia almost burst out laughing at that. Yes, few people talking woke him up when he apparently hadn't been bothered when Estonia and Finland had been throwing big braches around to form a bonfire – a very credible claim indeed.

An hour or two later, when they were just about to start their feast, Tavastia finally arrived. Finland let out a shriek of pure joy and run off to meet him, and even Estonia was glad to see him, despite his earlier exasperation. They didn't have time or means to meet that often, and it was always a real threat that some of them would be unable to come, usually because of illnesses or raids.

As it were, it truly was a night to remember. They ate and drank until they could no more, and just as sun begun to set they lit up their bonfire, gathering around it with mead-drinks in hand, singing about old legends and telling funny stories about the antics of their people. Estonia couldn't even remember the last time he had so much fun!

The bonfire lasted hours, and so did their celebration. Even Livonia was willing to pick some wood and throw more branches into the fire to keep it from dying. It was well after the midnight when they finally started to get sleepy, and were just content to lying on the simple reed pads, basking on the warmth of the fire and listening Karelias beautiful singing voice telling them the well-known myth of creation of the world.

If something in this world was truly Finnic, it was singing. Rune singing was the basis and the common ground of their cultures. To a Baltic Finn, singing wasn't just a collection of nice sounds, no. Rune singing was everything from a simple entertainment to a serious education of history and legends, from the words of encouragement to the battle cries, from a plea to the spirits and ancestors to the powerful commandment of forces of the nature and the supernatural. It could sooth a weepy child, treat ailments both big and small, calm the sea and the spirits, or it could even aggravate them, if need be.

Even Vepsia, who usually was too anxious to speak – let alone to sing – still liked to listen, and when it was Karelia's turn to sing, he was typically the one shushing everybody.

Even if they all were good singers, it was Karelia who truly had an exceptional voice. When she sang, even the wild life would gather to listen. And now when they all were happily full and tired, it was her voice that guided them to sleep, one by one. Ingria was first to nod off, being the youngest, and the least accustomed to staying up late, but she certainly wasn't the last. Oddly enough, Livonia was the second to fall asleep, despite allegedly sleeping through the whole day.

But Estonia didn't want to fall asleep, even though his lids felt heavy and his thoughts muddled. He glanced left to see if Finland was still up. He was, though he too looked like it wouldn't be so for long. Estonia gently nudged his arm with his leg to get his attention, and when Finland raised his bleary gaze, he whispered: "want to go swimming?" His whisper was barely audible through Livonia's loud snores and Ingria's little sleepy mutterings, but Finland still seemed to get the gist of it, since his eyes grow big and excited, and he nodded.

They both stood up and left, careful of waking the others. The path to the river was easily seen in the moonlight despite the darkness of the late summer night. The air was unusually warm for the night as well, making the weather perfect for the late night dip in the water.

Afterwards they lay on the river bank side by side, looking at the stars and listening at the chirps of the crickets. Somewhere in the distance a lone cuckoo made its distinct call.

"I counted 27 cuckoos. Do you reckon that's the amount of years it takes one of us to get married, or the amount of years we have left to live?" Estonia teased, making fun of the old belief some of their people had about cuckoo's calls.

"Definitely the years we have left", Finland joked back, "it's a one cruel bird after all".

They looked at each other, both having mirth in their eyes, and in their tired state, they couldn't help but burst into laughing. The sudden loud sound scared a partridge into flight from the tall hay just a few meters away from them. The frightened and shrill calls of the bird made them laugh even harder.

It took them a while to calm down, but eventually they did. The night was yet again silent and tranquil. Above them, the Milky Way crossed the sky, bright even among the other stars.

"Finland?" Estonia whispered, now suddenly unwilling to break the peacefulness of the night.

"Hmm?"

"About today… earlier I mean, when I… kissed you… You didn't mind?"

"Mind?" Finland said, sounding perplexed. "Why would I mind it? We're friends. You can kiss me if you like…"

"I mean, it was a kind of nice, even if a bit surprising…" Finland continued, now sounding a little shy and unsure. "I mean, it was the first time anyone kissed me, so…"

"Really? Like ever?"

"Yes, really."

"Not even by your people? Pecks on cheeks or something?"

"No, not really… I mean, they were really scared of me in the beginning, you know? They found me from a winter nest of a bear when I was a lot younger. I wasn't scared though, I somehow _sensed_ it was meant to happen, me meeting them. Just like I knew no animal would ever hurt me, or that the land wouldn't starve me.

"But to them, I was a _haltija_ of the land and people. Some of them feared me, but on the same time also respected me, giving me anything I could ever hope to ask.

"But on the other hand, they didn't really treat me like a child, you know? And I get that, I do, since they lived their lives while I stayed the same. A child, but not really…" He ended his tale on a wishful note, sounding a tad mournful.

"Soome…" Estonia whispered and gently laid his hand on the other boy's arm. He had never heard Finland speaking about the time when they didn't yet know each other. He had always just assumed Finland's childhood had been similar to his own. He too had wandered the wild, though to him it hadn't been such a certainty that no animal would mean him any harm. Then again, Finland always had had a way with the wildlife.

When Estonia had been found by the people, he at first had been raised like a human would've been, although his caretakers had soon realised that their adoptive son wasn't exactly what could in any way be called a normal boy. They too had guessed that he must be a _haldja_ , a guardian spirit or protector of a place or people, or like in their special case, both really.

After that, it had become an honourable job for high-ranking folks to look after him until he was old enough to live on his own. In his childhood, there hadn't been a lack of cuddles or kisses, or anything a child would want. He knew it was partly because his people believed that a happy _haldja_ would bring wealth and good luck to his people, and badly treated one could ruin the whole tribe.

But he didn't mind, after all, he had felt loved, and that was all that had mattered back then. But to hear that Finland's experience hadn't been the same, although he hadn't been mistreated… It made Estonia feel pity for his friend. He moved his along Finland's arms until he felt his hand, and then he took a hold of his hand intertwining their fingers.

"Soome, I'm so sorry…" Estonia said while squeezing his hand to show his support.

"It doesn't matter, Viro. Not anymore. It's ancient history, and besides, I have you and Häme, and the rest of our family now, right?" Finland said turned to look at his friend, smiling so brightly that Estonia felt it could light up the whole field.

"Yes you do, you have us… You'll have _me_ for the rest of your life, I promise", Estonia vowed back in a low voice.

Finland didn't answer, but he squeezed Estonia's hand back, his expression so full of gratitude that no amount of words could've conveyed more clearly how he felt. For a moment they just looked at each other in silence.

"I wish…" Estonia whispered, but stopped. He felt a bit silly to voice his thoughts after such a serious conversation. But Finland was having none of that.

"Tell me, please?"

"I wish things could stay like this for ever. Us, being together."

Finland smiled gently, and whispered back in a barely audible voice: "Me too, Viro, me too".

Nothing more needed to be said, and they both turned their eyes back to the sky that had already started to slowly lighten. Finland scooted closer for warmth, and Estonia wrapped both of them in a blanket he had luckily decided to take with them earlier.

Estonia felt Finland's forehead touching his temple, the other being so close he could hear his peaceful and rhythmic breath. At that moment, Estonia thought everything to be so perfect he wouldn't have minded if the time itself froze so this moment could last for an eternity.

But life's little perfect moments were always fleeting in nature, and it wasn't for long before the sleep claimed them both.


	4. Meetings and Changes

Finland stood between the trees, utterly still. Sweden and his people were yet again camping on his shores, resting for the night. The other land had been doing this a lot lately. He travelled to the east, all the way to Vepsia's land and even farther. Finland wasn't sure why. He had never been that far away from home, nor had he any reason or desire to do so.

But he had come to see Sweden every time he felt the other was near. Finland had kept his distance, though, since the incident some years ago when he had been almost caught. He didn't know why he was so enthralled by the tall land. He certainly had no reason to be.

The Swedes were common sight on his land. Most of the time they were harmless, trading with Finland's people or camping for a few days before carrying on with their sea travel. But the other times, they were just pure trouble.

Raiding of course wasn't just Swedish specialty, no. It was common enough in the Baltic Sea that most tribes had a warning system in place. In case of pillagers, a series of huge fires would be lit, to warn the neighbours about the danger. The neighbours in turn would light their own fires to send out the message. Ideally, the whole coast would know about the threat just in few hours.

Recently the Swedes had been more interested in trading. They would buy all the animal pelts and furs they possibly could, and they even paid a good price for them. Some of his own people who had travelled with the Swedes to the east claimed they changed the furs for goods and trinkets so miraculous, it was almost impossible to belief. But they all had been forced to believe, since those very same people had returned home richer, carrying beautifully crafted weapons and shining jewellery.

But it was not the promise of riches that made Sweden so interesting to Finland. Even if he had no real idea why, Finland felt a kind of compulsion deep in his soul that made him seek out the other land. The warnings of Estonia and his own people had made him stay at the safe distance, though.

It was beginning to get dark, and Finland knew it was time to go home. The Swedish camp had quieted a while back too. He had stayed longer than normal, just for a glimpse of the other land, but in the end, it had been in vain. Sweden was close, which Finland could feel in his gut, but for some reason, he must have stayed in the long ship.

Finland turned around, only to get a shock of a lifetime.

"Yer here again" Sweden said in a hoarse voice. He was standing only a little distance away from Finland.

How he had gotten there without Finland finding out was a mystery. Finland not only had an excellent hearing, but he should have _felt_ the other land approaching long before getting this close. Finland skimmed his surroundings in one glance in search of an escape route.

"No, don't go", Sweden gasped, apparently guessing the intent of the other land. Finland stopped looking around.

_Just as well_ , Finland thought. There weren't really a possibility for an escape anyway. He had chosen his lookout for the view of the camp, not for the quick exit. Since Sweden had managed to sneak behind him, there wasn't much he could do. Behind him was a steep fall which he wasn't willing to risk just to get away.

"What's yer name?" Sweden asked as it came evident that Finland wasn't about to flee.

"Suomi", Finland answered, thinking it was best to comply. But Sweden frowned.

"No, didn't mean that. I know yer Finland, heard it from yer people. I wanna know yer real name. Mine's Berwald."

Finland didn't answer. The old conversation with Estonia haunted his mind. _Never tell your birth name._ He didn't want to. Finland wasn't so sure it could do as much harm as some of his people believed, but then again, why risk it, since it was so simple to merely hold one's tongue?

But it wasn't easy, when a land so much bigger than him was demanding an answer.

"Ya don't have a name?"

Finland shook his head, and immediately regretted it. He should have just lied! His silence made Sweden frown deepen, and the other land took a step closer. Finland almost stepped back before he remembered that there wasn't any room to retreat. But the slowly approaching hulking form of the other land did not stop, and the expression his face wasn't exactly pleasant either.

Suddenly Finland realised what an idiot he had been; everybody had warned him against coming here alone, but had he listened? Now here he was, alone with a land he did not know, who was not only taller, bigger and older than him, but had a group of his countrymen only a yelling distance away.

So when Sweden took one more step closer to him, Finland decided it was better just to yelp out his name. Sweden paused.

"Tino?" Sweden asked, looking for confirmation that he got it right.

Finland nodded. It wasn't even close, but it didn't matter. He hadn't wanted the other land to know his name in the first place, so it was better for him if Sweden thought it was this… 'Tino' instead of his real name.

"I'm Berwald. Can ya say it? Berwald" Sweden said, trying to pronounce his name carefully and clearly.

Finland stared at him, completely bemused. The other land was speaking to him like one would speak to a young child. Granted, Finland was obviously younger than Sweden, and since he also was kind of small for his age, it was easy to mistake him to be even younger than he really was. But he wasn't _five_! Of course he could say a damn _name_ if he wanted! …But only if he wanted: Finland had no aspiration to do so.

Sweden was looking at him expectedly. Finland thought it best to just play stupid, and he shook his head again.

"Oh", Sweden mumbled, looking a tad disappointed. "M'people call me Svealand."

Finland nodded. He had heard the name before, even knew its meaning: 'land of Swedes'. Sweden didn't look satisfied at his gesture, though, so he obliged and repeated it aloud: "Sveehlahnd".

He didn't pronounce it right, that much he could hear himself, but it didn't seem to matter; Sweden nodded and the corners of his mouth turned a bit upwards. Finland thought it was meant to be smile, but in reality it looked a bit more like a grimace. He forced himself to smile too, just in case.

But the slight 'smile' on the other land's face vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. Sweden stood tall, his frame that of a fully grown man, even if he wasn't. He was wearing a thick wolf fur mantle which made him appear even taller and bigger than usually.

Without really meaning to, Finland glanced at his waist. An ornamented scabbard hanged on his belt. He couldn't see the blade, but the pommel was visible, and it was enough. Finland recognised the sword as a ring-hilt spatha. Anyone carrying a sword that valuable could most certainly use it, too.

Finland felt how he broke out in a cold sweat. All he had was his _puukko_. A trusted weapon, sure, but how useful it would be against an experienced swordsman? The worst thing was that he couldn't read anything out of the other land's expression. Sweden's face could have been carved out of ice, for all the good it did.

They stared at each other for a good while. Just as Finland was about lose his nerve, and do something risky by attempting to flee, Sweden turned to look at his camp site.

"I'll find ya after m'trip" Sweden said, and turned to leave. He disappeared in to the dark woods quietly like the animal whose furs he was wearing.

Finland didn't lose a second and bolted in the forest, in the opposite direction of where the taller land had gone. He ran in the dark forest until he was absolutely sure no one could have followed him, and then he ran a bit more, just in case. When he reached a familiar pond he knew was quite near to his house, he at last stopped running and sat down on the ground.

In the darkness of the night he could only hear his own gasping breath and his loudly thumping heart. The run had calmed him slightly, but it hadn't completely soothed his fears. And frankly, he wasn't sure if he was more relieved to be out of the sight of Sweden, or more frightened of his promise… Or had it been a threat?

* * *

In the end, Finland had nothing to fear. The spring had turned into a summer, and the summer gave way to the fall. When the first snow fell, Finland had all but forgotten about Sweden, and his promise.

It wasn't until next spring, when he saw Sweden the second time. Finland was chopping firewood on his yard, taking advantage of a surprisingly warm day of an early spring. He had been cooped inside long enough during past few weeks, when the weather had been rainy and unpleasant.

So now, when it was clear and bright, he gladly spent it outside, doing all the work he had foregone before. Chopping firewood had always been one of his favourite tasks, so it wasn't long that he started humming in joy, and then he started singing in earnest while he worked.

"Mitä itket pieni lintu,

Lintu tuima tuikuttelet,

Pahalla pajupurolla,

Tiheällä tuomikolla?"

After he had chopped enough firewood and stacked the rest in his little shed, he knelt down to pick some of the braches in his arms. Arms full of firewood, he rose up and turned towards his cottage. What he saw then made him jump in surprise and drop his burden.

He had been so absorbed in his work that he hadn't heard a thing: Sweden stood on the muddy yard, between him and his cottage. It was eerily similar situation to their first meeting, and Finland couldn't help but wonder how a tall and gangly boy like Sweden possibly could move so quietly in his battle gear.

"Ya got a nice voice" Sweden said as a greeting.

"T-thank you" Finland managed to stammer in response.

Sweden looked just as big and scary in the broad day light as he had looked in the dusk. But his stance was relaxed, his hands were no where near his sword, and unlike the last time now Finland had the upper hand.

Finland knew every nook and granny of his yard and the area surrounding it: if Sweden tried anything, he would simply flee and maybe even make his way to the near bog. Finland knew a safe way to pass it, but a stranger would surely sink into the bog if he tried to follow.

So after the initial surprise, Finland didn't feel nearly as afraid as he had the last time they had met, on the contrary even. He was actually curious why Sweden was here.

"Does it mean something?" Sweden asked.

"What?" Finland asked back, completely baffled.

"Yer song. Was nice" Sweden mumbled, turning a bit red in the face.

Finland couldn't believe his eyes. Was the other nation _blushing_? He opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out, so surprised he was at the tall land's reaction.

"Umm, yes, but it's just a silly old song. About a sad little bird, nothing fancy or anything" Finland at last managed to get out.

Sweden nodded. Then he pointed at the firewood still lying tumbled at Finland's feet where the smaller land had dropped them.

"Ya gonna take them inside?"

"Umm, yes" Finland said and reached down to pick the firewood again. He balanced the heavy load on his arms and started to walk back to his hut.

"Ya need help?"

"No, I got this!"

When Finland reached his porch, he just dumped his load next to the door of his home. It would be easy task to move the firewood inside after Sweden had left, but right now he wasn't about to willingly walk into a dead-end. Even though Sweden had been nothing but polite, it was still very much a common sense to remain wary.

Sweden had followed him, and the tall land was curiously peeking inside to Finland's hut from the open door. Finland used this curiosity to his advantage and subtly backed out a few paces away from the other land.

"Why are you here, Sve?" Finland demanded.

Sweden turned his gaze back at Finland. A bit of surprise had crept into the depths of his icy sea-coloured eyes.

"Sve?"

"Umm, well, yes" Finland started, now nervous again. "It's your name, isn't it? I mean without the 'land' part of course, but that's a bit redundant, right? I know you're a land, after all"

Sweden didn't answer. He just looked back at Finland, his face just as unreadable as ever.

"But if you don't like it, I won't use it. I'll just say the whole name, even if I don't really use – "

"I don't mind. Ya can call me 'Sve' if ya like" Sweden interrupted Finland's nervous babbling.

Finland shut his mouth and nodded. A silence descended upon them yet again. Finland was sifting through his brain in search of something – anything – to say, but the search came up empty. It annoyed Finland that Sweden just stood there like he had no care in the world, like these awkward pauses had no hold of the tall land. Sweden looked at Finland long and evenly, with an intensity that made Finland sweat nervously.

After a while – A very long while for Finland – Sweden spoke: "I've something for ya." He reached inside his coat, and despite himself, Finland felt himself stiffen in anticipation, his hand twitching for his knife.

But the object which Sweden pulled out from his pocket wasn't a weapon, but a beautiful bronze clasp. He stretched out his hand, offering the ornate clasp to Finland.

"For ya" He repeated when it became apparent that Finland wasn't about to take the item.

Finland wanted to say that the other land could keep his trinkets, since he knew that they rarely came without some hidden agenda. But the clasp was so _shiny_ and so different from what he had previously seen. It was truly a work of art.

And Sweden had been nice enough, he hadn't tried to hurt him or anything, so would it be the worst thing just once to quiet the warning bells in his head, and just go for it? Finland took a step, and then another until he came close to Sweden, and then he snatched the clasp out of Sweden's open palm.

The bronze clasp was big in Finland's hands. It was round, and polished so glossy Finland could see his own reflection on its shiny surface.

_He might not be really big on talking, but he still seems nice_ , Finland thought.

As Finland admired his new object of value, he missed the genuine smile on Sweden's face.

Sweden didn't stay for long after giving out the gift. His stay perhaps wasn't very lengthy, but it was only the first of many to follow. From that day onward Sweden visited Finland both before and after his yearly ventures into the lands in the east.

And every time he returned from his travels, he brought something back to Finland: a new knife, glass beads, bronze and silver buckles and claps, and so on. And in time, Finland stopped dreading Sweden's unexpected visits, and started look forward to them.

* * *

Ingria, Tavastia and Karelia had come to visit Finland just before the sea would freeze. For some reason, Estonia, Livonia and Vepsia hadn't come at all this year.

But Finland didn't exactly mind – even if he was a bit worried for the others, he also was glad he could spend some time with his brother and the girls he was so close with he might as well consider them to be his sisters. He enjoyed listening their chatter and sometimes childish and silly arguments.

They sat on rocks by the sea, trying to catch fish with a hook and line. The air was crisp and clear, if a bit chilly. They had been dragged here by Karelia, who had claimed to be tired of eating cold smoked salmon or pickled herring, and had demanded that they would spend the day trying to catch some fresh food for a change.

Finland hadn't minded. He liked fishing, after all.

"…And then Vepsä turned like really, really red. Like a beetroot! I thought he was going to pass out!" Ingria finished her story and cackled like a witch. Finland couldn't help but burst out laughing. He hadn't been really listening of the story, but Ingria's shrill laughter always amused him. It was unbelievably odd to hear such a noise come out of such a sweet looking little girl.

"Where's Vepsä, by the way?" asked Tavastia.

"I don't know" Karelia replied. "He had to meet someone."

"Wait a minute? Vepsä? Had to meet someone? Are talking about the same person? Short and pudgy, unable to speak, likes to be alone more than anything, _that_ Vepsä had to meet someone? Someone who's not one of you two?" Tavastia almost yelled in surprise, pointing at Ingria and Karelia.

"Häme, don't be nasty" Finland said to Tavastia, but secretly he was just as astonished as his brother.

"I really don't know" Karelia said, sounding a bit frustrated. "He didn't tell me much more. I think he went to see the new land he had been telling me about… but other than that, I don't know more than you do."

"A new land?" Finland asked. "Where?"

"Oh I know!" Ingria piped up, enthusiast that she could contribute something to the conversation. "He told me there's a strange child in the wilds southeast of him. Like really strange! He told me it was way too young to be on its own, but still it was… and that it had purple eyes – little like yours, Suomi, but lighter!"

They were silent for a while, pondering about what had been said.

"How old? Younger than you, Inkeri?" Finland asked.

"Of course it's younger! Toddler or something! _I'm_ not a little child!" Ingria screamed and turned away from the others to sulk. It was a sore spot to Ingria that she was youngest one in their family. Most of them were preadolescent, with the exception of Livonia, who was a bit older. But Ingria was considerably younger, and it clearly bothered the girl.

"I'm sorry, Inkeri, I didn't mean – "

"Don't bother, she throws a tantrum like that every other day or so" Karelia said rolling her eyes, interrupting Finland's apology. "But about that new land, now that I think about it, I remember Vepsä mentioning that he met it in the same area where those western lands always travel to."

"Western lands? Sve?"

"Yes, that's right! One of them is called Svealand!"

"Svealand? You mean Ruotsi, right?" Tavastia interrupted grumpily. "Speak properly, not that weird mumbling some people insist is a language."

If age was a bit sore subject to Ingria, Sweden definitely was so for Tavastia. Tavastia had met him only recently, and the other land had first mistaken Tavastia for Finland. Sweden had very soon realised that despite their similar appearance, Tavastia and Finland could have not been more different if they tried.

During their first meeting, Sweden had started calling Finland's brother by a new name: 'Tav Aest', instead of his original name Häme. At first, Tavastia had been proud of his new nick name. But when he had told about it to Estonia and Finland, the former had burst out laughing and even the latter had nearly done so.

Finland and Estonia had had much more contact with the Swedes, and both had learned a bit of Old Norse. So when Finland had translated the name Sweden had given to his brother as 'Stupid Estonian', Tavastia had turned both white and red almost in the same time. Then his expression had turned so enraged even Estonia had not dared to laugh.

From that moment, Tavastia had hated Sweden with all his heart. It didn't help at all that Sweden had continued to call him Tavast instead of Häme.

"So the big twerp travelled to the same area? You think he met some nice local – a bear or something – and _poof_!" Tavastia said and did a ridiculous gesture with his free hand. "Out comes a new land?"

"You mean you think Sve… I mean Ruotsi is the _father_ of that child?" Finland said in outrage.

"No, don't be ridiculous, Suomi!" Karelia interrupted. "And Häme, stop being a moron. You know it doesn't work like that!"

Tavastia burst out in laughter. Between the bouts of laughter he managed to make out: "You… never… know!" And then he almost lost his balance on the slippery rock, but even then that only made him laugh harder.

Karelia also started laughing, but she laughed more at Tavastia's lost footing than at his jokes. Even Ingria giggled little before she remembered she was supposed to be sulking.

Finland on the other hand was not amused. He forced out a couple chuckles so the others wouldn't figure out what was wrong, but something so clearly was… Even if he himself didn't know exactly what it was. Why had he felt so sad and horrified at the mere assumption that Sweden might have children somewhere in the east?

They had become friends somewhere along the line, yes, but their relationship was still very awkward and shy. Sweden rarely spoke, and Finland was often nervously trying to work out something they could do or talk about. Sweden often seemed to be content just staring at him, and that made Finland utterly uncomfortable.

So why was he thinking so hard about this when should have been enjoying the rare treat of the company of his family? With some effort Finland pushed the thoughts about Sweden out of his mind, and tuned in yet again to listen of the chitchat of Karelia and Tavastia.


	5. Something Wicked This Way Comes

Suddenly everything had changed. Life hadn't ever been easy in the north, but now, now everything was changing so rapidly it was sometimes difficult to keep track of it. Estonia did not honestly know if things now were better or worse – they were just different.

_Life used to be like a calm pool in the forest_ – _but now it's a rapid current,_ he thought. And the people and lands were swept along by that current of change, unable to fight it, not knowing were it was taking them… All were just wishing with all their might that the ride didn't end with a fall.

Not that all the lands by the Baltic Sea were exactly unwelcoming towards the swift changes in the area, no. Even Estonia felt curious, despite the small but constant worry he carried with him in his heart.

The last decades – centuries even – had been good for Estonia's people. They had not only grown rich from trade, but also the various tribes of the land had united in a way that made Estonia feel like he was invincible. If losing a town to famine or raids felt like someone had cut away a little –but still important – part off of him, then gaining land and people was exactly opposite: it was like he suddenly had more strength and could see and hear and even feel better.

His people stopped being just Vironians, Oeselians or Ungannians, and slowly but surely became to think themselves as united people, although it didn't stop all the conflicts between the tribes. Scandinavians had called Estonia 'Eistland' for so long that even he had grown accustomed to the name, and in his mind, this name became more important to him than Virumaa.

For the first time in his life, he had felt _powerful_. And so had his people. After centuries of having to deal with raids from various lands and tribes from the west, he had finally grown powerful enough to return the favour. And return the favour he certainly had done. With great fervour.

Tavastia and Livonia had _begged_ Estonia that they should be allowed to get into the act, but in vain. In the case of Livonia, it had been a pure pleasure for Estonia to turn down pleads from the obnoxious and haughty land. Oh what it must have taken from Livonia, to actually beg… And only to be rejected by the 'little brother'… A mere thought of the event still made Estonia's spine tingle pleasantly.

But with Tavastia, the reason for refusal had been more complicated. For a while now, Sweden had been visiting Finland. Estonia didn't quite understand why, but Finland didn't seem to mind it at all. Sweden had started to talk about some new god from the south, who would save their immortal souls. Estonia didn't know why exactly they needed saving, especially when they already were immortal. But Finland had started to listen. Maybe he was just humouring Sweden, but he was still listening.

But the worst thing was how Sweden acted around Finland. Estonia had seen it with his own eyes: Sweden stared at Finland all the time, and it was _creepy_. Not to mention how it clearly made Finland ill-at-ease.

But Estonia knew his best friend was surprisingly strong and more than capable of defending himself. For some reason, Finland really seemed to like Sweden, despite the awkwardness and creepiness of the taller land. Estonia didn't really get it, nor did he like it, but in the end, there was little he could do.

So when Tavastia had approached him about revenge against Sweden, a tiny part of him had almost agreed – maybe Sweden would left Finland alone if both of them would attack the tall land. But in the end, the rational side had won, like it always did. Finland would hardly thank Estonia for encouraging Tavastia's unhealthy hatred of Sweden, nor would he appreciate Estonia's meddling into affairs not concerning him at all. So, in the end Estonia had declined Tavastia's offer, and then rejected his pleads.

Estonia had made his raids against Sweden alone, without any help from his family or other lands, and they had been _glorious_. A bit biased but still oh so accurate description. He had felt like he was on the top of the world, like he was invincible, like he could do _anything_ and achieve _everything_ …

And that was when the Russians had attacked.

* * *

The journey back from Sweden had been fast and uneventful. Men were in high spirits after a successful and abundant raid. Estonia was more than content, even though now and then he felt a twinge of pain between his ribs, worrying him a bit… Was it some sort of a plague, or had frost taken the crops? In the end, there was nothing he could do, so he forced himself to push these thoughts aside.

It wasn't until they finally reached the home shore that it became apparent what exactly had been wrong. Everything had been scorched and pillaged. The village was still slightly smoking, though the devastation looked to be at least a day or two old. Estonia watched on as his brave men wandered among the ashes looking like lost little boys hugging their toys… Those toys – their plundered riches – were now everything they owned.

A despairing scream broke the unnatural silence. Estonia was startled out of his stupor, and he ran towards the sound. What he saw then made him feel lucky that he had skipped breakfast – even as it was it was hard to keep it down.

A young man was kneeling on the ground hugging a pile of rags and ashes. No, not rags, but in fact a very badly burnt body. Estonia turned away, feeling sick. Even then he could hear the utterly heart breaking cry of the young man.

Later Estonia would consider that exact moment to be the one that would change the way he looked at the world.

It didn't take long before the men had turned their backs to the smouldering ruins of their lost homes and started to track down the enemies responsible for the devastation of their village. Revenge was all they now had.

Estonia – feeling very weary and heavy at heart – followed, not really knowing what else to do.

It took them only a day and a half to catch the Novgorodians. The enemy had had a head start, sure, but Estonia's people were fuelled by the grief and promise of revenge, both very powerful incentives. The Novgorodians had already camped in for the night, and they were clearly in festive spirits.

Estonia quickly scanned their camp, and to his – and his men – relief, most of the women and children were still alive, taken as slaves. Most of the Novgorodians were already drunk, singing and shouting happily like they had no care in the world. And after the quick attack by the Estonians, they truly had none no longer.

Estonia sat perched on a small hill looking on at the carnage. The Novgorodians were completely surprised and easily defeated. Estonia's people gave them no mercy.

Estonia was of course glad some of the villagers had managed to escape death, but as he looked upon this… slaughter, he couldn't help but feel a bit dead inside. Had they not themselves celebrated a similar victory as those Novgorians had, just a few days ago? They had not celebrated over a successful raid? Celebrated over wailing widows, over death of the innocents… For what? Power and prestige? Honour? Or for few shiny trinkets?

Estonia felt sick. Previous daydream of glory had turned into a nightmare filled with gore.

"You're no fun" said a small voice.

Estonia gasped. He had thought he was alone here, well away from the camp which had turned into a war zone. He turned around only to gasp again from surprise.

A young child stood there, wrapped in thick animal pelts that made him look like a short and round furry ball.

"You're no fun, and I won't play with you again" the little boy exclaimed.

"Who are you?" Estonia asked, his eyes still wide as plates.

The little boy frowned.

"I'm Novgorod. Haven't you heard of me? Of course you have, you don't just remember" little boy said.

Estonia couldn't help but stare. Yes, of course he had heard of Novgorod in Venemaa, or Russland, like the western lands called him. In fact the child had been number one subject on the rare occasion his family had lately managed to get together.

"Why are you staring? Stop!" Novgorod said with the authority of a spoiled brat, a one which clearly had been accustomed of getting his way no matter what.

"Sorry" Estonia muttered, but didn't avert his eyes. He was bewitched. What was wrong with this land? His people had been just been slaughtered, but the child was completely unfazed. He should have been withering from pain of loosing so many of his own so quickly and unexpectedly. In fact he was acting quite the opposite – the child was calmly chatting up an enemy like it was nothing! Didn't he realise the danger he was in?

"You don't like to talk, do you? None of you Chuds do… "

"Chuds?"

"Da. Your kind. The people with white eyes and hair. You're quiet and beautiful. I like that."

The young child fell silent and looked at the bloody camp. The fight was well over by then, and his people were dead. But this didn't seem to bother Novgorod, for he had eyes only for the women and children who were now released.

"I want them. I had them, they were mine. The first time they didn't kill themselves, and you ruined it. You're no fun at all."

Estonia had no idea what the child was talking about, but it still managed to terrify him.

"The _first_ time?" He asked, dreading the answer.

"Da" Novgorod said, and turned to look at Estonia. "Chuds are difficult. Very often they drown themselves when they lose the fight. Walk into a lake and never come up. Not only women and children, but lands also. It's not fair at all! If I win they should become one with me, not walk into a lake!"

'Lands' was all Estonia heard before his heart started pounding like mad and blood gushed in his veins. His stomach felt like it was forcing its way up, and he only barely managed to keep it down.

"Who?" He croaked. His hands were shaking, his legs felt like they were made of rubber… Yet he had to contain himself with all his might so wouldn't jump at the other land and finish the slaughter his people had started.

"A Chud" The child said shrugging his shoulders. "Curly yellow hair. Soft. Or looked soft. I didn't know he had it in him."

_Vepsä_ , Estonia thought. In a one massive surge of feelings he felt both depressed and awful about Vepsia's fate, and rage for Novgorod for being so _nonchalant_ about something that was absolutely _horrifying_. In the back of his mind he also felt a bit relieved it had been Vepsia – and in turn felt completely wretched thinking like that.

Novgorod watched Estonia's inner struggle with an even gaze and a calm demeanour, his expression not betraying even an ounce of remorse.

_There's something seriously wrong with this child_ , Estonia thought. The child was very young, only roughly as big as five year old human. But there was nothing child-like about his behaviour, or his blank dead-eyed stare. And the eyes… Estonia realised they were the same colour as the warm pair so dear to him…

_But this child isn't Finland_ , Estonia admonished himself. His hands were shaking. Novgorod had already killed Vepsia, or at least caused his death – did he have the luxury to let this little monster in the making leave in peace?

But the child looked back at him, calmly and evenly as ever, like he didn't fear death, like he didn't know how to fear at all… And Estonia knew he couldn't make himself struck down the little land – not when the other was simply so broken, like Novgorod hadn't yet grown old enough to distinguish right from wrong.

"Go!" Estonia yelled in a hoarse, barely controlled voice that managed to shock even himself. "Run home, and never come back! Or I swear to gods you'll meet the same destiny as your men did!"

And without any words, Novgorod ran. Just tiniest bit of surprise had entered in the depths of those dark eyes before the tiny land had quickly gathered his loose garb in his arms and disappeared into the thick pine tree forest.

Estonia shuddered. Rage gave way to sorrow. Vepsia was dead. He hadn't even known lands could die, and Vepsia had been so young…

_As young as me_ , Estonia thought. And for the first time he realised he wasn't immortal. Someday he would die, as would Finland, Ingria, Karelia …even that jerk Livonia.

Livonia! Only few months ago all that had filled Estonia's thought had been how to become stronger and more powerful than his brother, no matter what, no matter the cost. Now Estonia realised there wasn't much they could do alone, squeezed as they were between greater powers in the Baltic Sea… But together – together they would be more than a match.

It was time to bury the hatched with his brother.

* * *

Finland was returning home with his men. They had been fighting Novgorod with Tavastia, as they had for a while now. Finland was tired and sore. His men had been defeated, and they had barely managed to escape with their lives. Tavastia and his men had already parted ways, as they made their way towards the north and Finland and his people sailed west along the shore of the gulf.

The wars had gone on for years now, decades even, and the fates had finally decide to rule in favour of the Novgorodians. At the beginning Novgorod had been outnumbered, waging war with four Finnic tribes: Karelia, Ingria, Tavastia and Finland. They had easily driven Russians off their lands and then they had counterattacked. Novgorod hadn't stood a change.

The attack had been brutal. Vepsia's fate had driven them to fight harder – especially Karelia who at first hadn't even wanted to believe Vepsia could be dead at all, since so many of his people still remained. But after years she too had to accept the truth – Vepsia was gone.

But easy victory had made them cocky – only a few years later Novgorod had changed his battle plans, now only targeting Karelia. It had taken only few weeks for her to lose the fight. When the others had come to her aid, it had already been too late – she was now forced to fight for Novgorod, against her kin.

Ingria had been next.

And in the end, Finland and Tavastia weren't powerful enough for Novgorod who now was aided by both Karelia and Ingria. Finland and Tavastia had launched the last big battle against the Russians, but in vain. They had been defeated, and all that what left to do was to limp back home in shame. And wait and prepare for retribution.

Novgorod would not be let this be – this defeat had told him everything about the military might of remaining independent Finnish tribes. Not only had they been weak in battle, but their big attack against Novgorod had vexed them too thin – they were now ripe to pick, and Novgorod knew it.

Their only change was now to prepare for invasion as well as they could, and hope that the Swedes would plan to attack their common enemy soon. Swedes and Finns weren't in any formal alliance, but they both fought Novgorod who had been aggressively expanding for decades.

Finland's thoughts were interrupted as the boat hit the shore. The men dragged boats ashore, and started readying camp for the night. Finland didn't understand why. They were close to their village already; they could get home for night if they continued their journey. The sun had not yet set, and it wouldn't for some time as it was late summer. Perhaps the men weren't ready to face their loved ones after such a loss…

But Finland wanted nothing more than to sleep in his own bed. He bid his farewells and started his trek home.

It took him three hours until he was limping up the familiar hill. The journey had taken more out of him than he thought – if it had been any longer he wouldn't have made it back. His sigh of relief when he at last saw his hut quickly turned into a slight panic – the door was open and a lit lantern was lighting the porch in the dimming evening.

Finland grabbed his trusty bow from his back and an arrow from a vine in haste, and made sure his knife could be easily whipped out, if needed.

"Who's there?" He yelled, and immediately cursed in his mind. His voice had cracked mid-sentence.

But again his panic quickly gave way for relief when Sweden stepped out of his cottage.

"Oh, it's you" he sighed and put the arrow he was holding back to a vine. He hobbled towards the hut using the bow as support.

"What happened?" Sweden asked. He looked serious as always, but frowned when he watched Finland climb the few steps on the porch with laboured breath.

"Novgorodians won. But I'm fine, just a couple of scratches and bruises" Finland answered dismissively. He lifted the backpack off of his shoulders and put down on the porch next to his bow which he had placed to lean against the nearest wall. All he could think of was his bed, just a few steps away inside the cottage.

Sweden was standing next to the open door. When Finland moved to step inside the house past him, the taller boy stepped on his way, blocking the entrance. This clearly startled Finland, and he raised his gaze to meet the eyes of the other land. Sweden looked back, calmly.

"What are doing, Sve?"

"Yer leg. What happened?"

"Like I said, we lost. I must've twisted it while running away and didn't even notice. It got worse when I walked home" Finland answered truthfully. All he cared about was getting past Sweden so he could get some _rest_ already.

"Ya walked home?"

"Well, no, of course not. I walked from the camp. It's quite near my cottage and I just wanted to get home… Now would you let me inside?"

"Yer people are still away?"

"Yes, Sve, that's what I said! Now, would you please let me inside?!" Finland raised his voice, almost completely losing his temper.

But to his complete shock, Sweden grabbed him under his shoulders, and his knees, and lifted him from the ground.

"What are you…? Let me down, now!"

But Sweden didn't answer, nor let him down, but carried him over the threshold like one would a bride. Finland didn't dare to struggle, lest they both topple over. He was bruised enough, thank you very much.

Thankfully Sweden carried him just to the bed, and gently laid him down. For Finland, the whole ordeal was quite humiliating. He couldn't meet the eyes of the other boy.

"Uum" he started, and cleared his throat. "Thanks, I suppose. I'll just go to sleep now –"

"No" Sweden interrupted. His voice was stern and hard. "Now we talk."

"Talk? About what? Sve, I'm _tired_. I just lost a war, and now I want to sleep, I don't want to _talk_ –"

"Fine. I talk. You listen."

Finland shut his mouth with a snap. Well this was new. Usually he did all the talking, while Sweden was content just glaring and grunting.

Sweden fetched a little chair and put it beside the bed, and then sat on it.

"Yer war with Tavast and Novgorod is over. He's gonna attack you, soon."

Finland shut his eyes and leaned back into the bedding. This is what Sweden wanted to talk about? Odds and probabilities? Of course Novgorod would attack, sooner or later.

"It won't be so soon, we did make some damage to him. I'd guess next spring. I'll have time to prepare."

But Sweden shook his head. His face was earnest and worried.

"No, he'll make it soon, maybe just before frost. You have weeks, not months."

"Then weeks it is. I'll manage" Finland quipped. He was slowly loosing his patience.

But Sweden was having none of his assurances. He shook his head again.

"He'll kill yer people, or take them as slaves. He doesn't play nice or fair. You'll get killed."

Finland turned his head so he could look into Sweden's eyes. They were honest and sad. Sweden truly believed he would end up dead. Great, what a boost for the confidence.

"You don't know that. I'm stronger than I look, and I'll do my best, right? It'll be fine –"

"I'll protect you, if you'll become m'vassal" Sweden interrupted him.

A silence descended upon them, only to be broken by the fire cracking in the blazing hearth. Finland couldn't believe what he had just heard. So all this fake concern only for so he would run into the arms of Sweden? When all he had done earlier was to escape that very same fate from Novgorod.

Finland rose to sit on his bed. He pointed at the door, and whispered: "Get out."

But Sweden didn't budge. He clearly had no intention of leaving. So Finland did the only thing he really could do in that situation. He pulled the knife from its sheath and pointed at Sweden.

"You've seen me use this before. Get out, or I'll make you."

"No. Yer hurt. Tired. Can't make me."

"Fine! Get out, or I'll swear to gods old and new that I'll stick this into your neck!" Finland yelled.

"Lands don't die like that. I've died before. It hurts, then it doesn't. You wake up groggy and hurting, but you wake up."

"But" Sweden said when Finland was just about to tell him what exactly he felt about this lecture from the normally very silent man. "Yer people won't."

"What?"

"Yer people. I've got them surrounded with m'army. If I don't return tonight, they'll burn down the fortifications on the hill fort."

"What?" Finland repeated, completely horrified.

"You can become m'vassal, and yer people are saved, and I'll protect you. Or you can say no, and yer people burn" Sweden said with even, composed tone, like he was talking about something trivial, not about the lives of a hundred people.

"What – How… You… Why are you doing this? I thought… I thought we were friends" Finland whispered. His voice was filled with shock and bewilderment.

Sweden looked at him, his face an expressionless mask void of any emotion. But his eyes were sad.

"I'll save you. From others. From yerself."

Finland shook his head. He didn't need saving! Well, maybe saving from Sweden, yes, but other than that, hell no! But he had been forced into a corner, and there were nowhere to go. His men were still hours away, and he had no means of reaching them. Sweden might be bluffing about torching his remaining villagers, but that wasn't a risk he was willing to take.

And even if his warriors could be reached, they were still in no fighting condition, bloodied and battered as they were. He had just walked from lost battle to utter defeat.

"I'll become your vassal" Finland whispered, barely audibly. But Sweden seemed to hear just fine, for he smiled. Finland instantly hated that smile.

"Ya can rest now" Sweden said, and very quickly left.

Now Finland was alone, and just as tired as he had been few minutes ago, but sleep was the last thing in his mind. He thought how he had trusted Sweden, and how that trust had been spit back at his face. He had dreaded the fate that had fallen upon Ingria and Karelia when they had become subjects of Novgorod's rule, and now he was in no better situation.

Novgorod had made the girls fight against family without a thought for their feelings for the matter. And even though he tried his best to just fall asleep to escape from this real nightmare for a few hours, he couldn't. He lay on his bed thinking what his life would be like from now on.

* * *

It didn't take long for Sweden to conquer the hill fort, the ancient sanctuary of Finland's people. There was some fighting on the slopes of the fortification, but as soon as the men defeated by the Novgorodians returned home and saw what had befallen upon their village, both the warriors and the villagers quickly surrendered. It was clear resisting now would only lead to unnecessary blood-shed.

But Sweden kept his word. As Finns plead loyalty to Swedes, they did receive the protection Sweden had promised. When Novgorod attacked only few weeks later, they were completely outnumbered by Finns and Swedes, and easily driven home.

But for Finland it was somewhat hollow consolation. Granted, his every day life hadn't changed much. He still lived in his little cottage in the middle of the woods, and he still was free to come and go as he pleased. But when in next spring Sweden called him to another war against Novgorod, he had no other choice but to say 'yes'.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now we've gotten somewhere around 11th and 12th centuries. Estonia always seemed a bit pacifist to me, so this chapter is his big realisation: "hey maybe pillaging and all that isn't right after all..." And Estonia didn't really have its own name until 19th century. The people called themselves "maarahvas" (could be translated as 'folk of the land')
> 
> And the death of Vepsia. Since Vepsian culture isn't dead (there's few thousand vepsian speakers left), I'd like to think he actually woke up after his drowning and thought it was better for his people to think he was dead. So he went and lived as a hermit in the Russian woods.


	6. Different Fates Await

Estonia waited patiently, though his heart was heavy with worry. His scouts had fed him steady flow of information about the enemy movements all week, and the time was starting to run out. If Livonia would not come soon, the battle might be over even before it was even started.

Estonia was no match to Denmark's gathering army. He knew it. His men knew it. But if it came to it, they would march into a battle, had they real chance to win it or not.

_But it would not come to that_ , Estonia thought, _Livonia will come!_ He didn't know where his brother was, or what was keeping him, but this war was as much Livonia's as it was his. His brother would come.

* * *

_Estonia sat on a fallen tree trunk. His feet were nervously swinging back and fort while his hands were idly picking moss from the trunk. He was staring straight ahead, though without actually seeing his surroundings, as his mind was focused on other things._

_This little forest clearing Estonia was sitting in was supposed to serve as a meeting place for him and his brother. It had been Livonia's idea. Estonia didn't understand why; he could see no reason why this place was chosen, other than the fact it was located on the border of their lands. Perhaps Livonia had just acquired a taste for symbolic gestures._

_But Estonia was in no position to complain about minor issues such as this. If Livonia wanted to have their talk in the middle of a forest, so be it._

_Estonia swatted a mosquito. A swamp or pond must be close by, since this clearing was absolutely swarmed by the hungry little pests. If it had been any other land than Livonia, Estonia could've sworn the location had been chosen for this annoyance to put him in an unfavourable position._

_Livonia was late already. That was not new. He after all was always late. But still, it did not help Estonia's nerves one bit._

_Ever since Novgorod's attack he had known this moment would come: he had to swallow his pride and ask his brother's help. Or an alliance, at least._

_Loud crashes and swears alerted him to Livonia's presence long before he could actually see his brother. Estonia sat up and took deep breath; it was show time._

_"There you are! This forest is awful! I almost walked into a bog. Why on earth did you want to meet here?" Livonia complained as soon as he stepped out of the woods._

_"What?" Estonia said, already annoyed. "I did not pick this place, you dolt. It was…_ Liivi is that a child _?"_

_At that Livonia turned his head to look at the tiny child peeking from behind his legs._

_"Ah yes. Yes it is. Isn't he cute?" Livonia answered and patted the child's messy blond hair. The child smiled, looking Livonia adoringly._

_Estonia was a bit lost on words. His earlier annoyance was all forgotten in the face of this new surprise. A child travelling with Livonia? The boy who should not be trusted with a pet stone let alone anything living? Madness!_

_"Did… did you steal him?" Estonia asked fearing the answer. He didn't put it past Livonia._

_"No, of course not. I found him. Or he found me. I mean look at him, he's clearly one of us!"_

_And Estonia looked at the little boy with more care. Livonia was right, he was a land. But he was just so tiny it was odd to think a child that small could survive on his own. The child was shyly watching him, still hiding behind Livonia's legs and clutching the other land's pant fabric in his tiny fists. But when Estonia smiled at the small boy, he smiled back readily enough._

_"I call him Latvis. He's from the south. Or that's where he comes from when he visits me. I think lives with someone else most of the time, though, but beats me who" Livonia explained. "He doesn't speak very well yet. Or at least nothing I could understand."_

_"Why Latvis?" Estonia asked. It meant 'forest-clearer'._

_But Livonia just shrugged. Oh great, he had probably named the little land by whim. So typical of him._

_Ignoring his brother Estonia addressed the small boy: "Latvis? Are you hungry? I've got cheese and bread, and berries, if you want some"._

_Latvia was clearly interested, but as soon as he had taken a few tentative step toward Estonia, Livonia brushed past him exclaiming that he was hungry as a bear after waking from hibernation._

_The first instinct almost made Estonia to take back his offer and yell that he certainly had not offered any food for_ Livonia _. But then he realised that this little offer would be perfect gesture for breaking the ice between them, to raise Livonia's sympathy for Estonia... So he laid his packed lunch on the fallen tree trunk and all three of them sat down to eat._

_And while they ate, Estonia explained his big realisation how they were too small if they remained by themselves, but together… The sky would be the limit. And to Estonia's amazement Livonia was actually listening, and not rejecting his opinion right out like he had been expecting._

_"I do get what you're saying" Livonia mumbled his mouth full of bread and cheese, "but why stop there?"_

_He swallowed audibly, and continued._

_"I know you're very fond of your northern wastes – and they're really nice wastes!" Livonia added when Estonia's face turned sour. "But south and west is where it is, right? So I say we combine our forces and hit them where it really hurts!"_

_"So where? A new raid in Sweden?"_

_"Among others. He's locked in war with Novgorod, so he's an easy target. But I'm talking about_ all _the lands by the western sea" Livonia said. His eyes were shining and his lovely face was flushed in excitement._

_But Estonia was not impressed. This was not why had come. He wanted protection against the forces in the east and west, not more wars and raids._

_"Maybe" Estonia said, but his tone uncertain. "But we'd need the others, too. Soome, certainly, perhaps even Häme."_

_Livonia's eyes widened and his brows climbed up on his forehead. Then his expression turned straight out malicious._

_"Don't tell me you don't know? Oh this is rich! I know things about your lover-boy you don't even after all the stalking you do into his affairs? Priceless!"_

_"He's not my lover, you know we're just friends" Estonia said embarrassed and annoyed. "Tell me then and quit your mocking,"_

_"Oh yes, just friends, because_ he _doesn't want more. I_ do _know. But alas, it's not like you have a chance anyway._ Not anymore _" Livonia said with a big ugly smirk on his face that was warping his otherwise handsome features._

_"What do you mean?"_

_"I mean Finland hasn't been 'Soome' for some time now. He belongs to Sweden now."_

_Estonia felt light-headed._ How he could have not known? _Why hadn't Finland asked his help? Was he even alright?_

_But then he saw the ugly glee on Livonia's face. No, this wasn't the time or place to show any of these feelings. Things were out of his hands anyway. With mustering every bit of acting skills he had, Estonia shrugged his shoulders and said with a strained voice: "that's a shame. But that proves what I was saying: we need each other"._

_Livonia was clearly surprised he didn't get more spectacular reaction for his news. But he, too, gathered his wits very quickly._

_"Fine! Then we agree to raid all the rich southern and western lands?" Livonia said._

_"Fine" Estonia said nonchalantly and shrugged his shoulders._

_"Fine!" Livonia snapped and stood up. Without further comments, or even goodbyes, he quickly left the clearing._

_Estonia slumped in his seat. Finally. Little more and he wouldn't have been able to maintain composure. Tear flooded his vision and threatened to spill._ How could he not know? _And worse still, Livonia had known the fate of his best friend before him? He felt wretched._

_"Igaunija?" said a small, worried voice._

_Oh no, he had forgotten Latvia. Estonia turned to look at the small boy who sat just few paces from him. He looked really worried._

_"Don't worry Latvis" Estonia said through his tears. "I'm fine. Just really worried for a friend."_

_Latvia patted his back in consolation. Estonia smiled at that. This kid certainly did not deserve Livonia._

_"Just… Best to not mention this to Liivi, right? You know how he is…" Estonia said._

_Latvia grinned and put one of his stubby little fingers on his lips in agreement. Estonia grinned back._

_"Good. Now hurry back with him. And take the food, I'm sure he didn't realise to take anything and you have a longer journey back than I do" Estonia said and offered Latvia rest of the foods._

_Latvia took the food. With a barely audible 'bye!' he, too vanished in the woods. Estonia was left on the clearing wondering what kind of mess he had gotten himself into this time._

* * *

Estonia sighed. He and Livonia had raided Sweden together, like they had agreed to in that forest clearing. After Sweden it had been small Danish islands and various merchants around the Baltic Sea that had been the targets. And all the raids had been surprisingly enough mostly successful …but still grave mistakes.

Swedes and Danes – once the people who were responsible for most of the forays in the Baltic Sea – had changed their tactics and now approached their former victims under the guise of commerce and religion to ensnare the lands with more lasting bonds. The control of Baltic Sea trade had been their prize for adopting the new faith and for allowing missionaries to travel with the merchants.

So in hindsight, it was more surprising that Sweden and Denmark had not acted earlier when a couple of minuscule heathen lands disrupted all this.

It had taken Sweden years to retaliate. His ongoing war with Novgorod had taxed the tall land all too thin, but it had still taken great effort from Estonia to drive him off. Denmark, on the other hand had been even slower to react, but when he finally did, it was with a vengeance. First with raids of their own, and finally with a proper army, ready to conquer.

And here Estonia was, trapped in his tiny fort with too few men, waiting and dreading when Denmark would deliver the first blow.

There hadn't been any good news for a while now, and the men were getting desperate. There were simply too few of them, especially when compared to Danish troops, which according to reports outnumbered them at least three to one.

The only chance they got was that Livonia would come to his aid, and the Danish forces would be pressed between the Estonians defending the fortress and Livonian troops attacking behind them.

All he could now was wait and hope. _Taara help us all!_

But Estonia's hopes did not materialise. He had sent several negotiators to the Danish army – not in the hopes of avoiding the combat, but to buy some more time – and now all those negotiations had failed. The time had finally run out. Livonia had not come.

In desperation, the commanders of his army decided to spring a surprise attack against the Danes. They could not face the other army head on, but with the element of surprise on their side, maybe, _just maybe,_ they had tiniest of chances…

So when the Danish troops were settling down for suppertime the Estonians attacked. It was hard to tell which group was more surprised: the Danes who had not anticipated the attack at all, or the Estonians who hadn't believed their plan could actually work.

But it had. The Danish troops fled all the directions offering no resistance. Estonia watched as his men felled down the enemy like they nothing more than wheat ready to be harvested. Estonia couldn't believe his luck; they could win this, they had the chance to actually win…

But his thoughts were premature. Just as it appeared the Estonian troops were on the brink of a win they were flanked by the rear. Estonia felt his men die long before he could actually hear their frightened and harrowing cries of death.

The beings attacking them from the side were nothing like Estonia had seen before. They wore glistening silver armour that covered them from head to toe. The leader was on a horse that killed by stomping and kicking just as many soldiers as the menacing figure on the animal did by waiving the massive sword.

Estonia couldn't believe his eyes. These armour plated men cut their access to the fort in mere minutes. And just like that, Estonia knew the tide had changed. They were doomed.

In desperation he called his men to gather around him to form the last stand, but his screams fell short. The Danish troops had regrouped and pressed the Estonians from the other side until they were forced to split in two groups: one fighting the frighteningly efficient butchers in shiny armour and the other left to deal with overwhelming predominance of the Danes.

"Had enough already?" asked a voice with mirth.

Estonia turned around only to become face to face with Denmark himself. He wore unassuming armour and clothes, nothing really standing out from his men, but his face was radiant.

"Taani!" Estonia gasped.

"Well hello to you too, Estland!" the other land replied with a slight smirk. "Fancy meeting you here. Care to surrender yet?"

Estonia paused and looked around. The battle was slowly but surely turning into a slaughter. They were both outnumbered and unable to retreat. The battle was already lost, but at least he could still save some of his men… Estonia lay down his arms and knelt on the ground.

"Good boy" Denmark whispered, and leaned down to take Estonia's sword. "You'll make a fine subordinate yet."

Denmark commanded couple of his men to take Estonia away. Estonia was roughly lifted from the ground and half-dragged from the battle field towards the Danish camp. Estonia barely registered the rough treatment, or his destination. His flesh was just as numb as was his heart.

Most of the Estonian troops soon surrendered. The few who had not, had been quickly struck down. Estonia did not see this, for he had been brought to one if the tents in the Danish camp, but he did still _feel_ every death as surely as if it had been him who had been hit.

It took hours to the battle to be truly over, despite the fact it had been lost long time ago. Estonia could do nothing but sit on the floor of the tent and wait.

Some time later, Denmark and couple of other lands stepped into the tent. Estonia took in the odd white-haired and red-eyed man in a shiny armour that was in a heated argument with Denmark, and quickly dismissed him in favour of the other similarly dressed land behind him.

Estonia heart skipped a beat. There he was, dressed in that same glistening armour – though now it was stained with blood – was Livonia, his brother. With his enemies.

Estonia stood up. His mouth opened, but no sounds came out, other than a tiny wheeze. Nothing made sense anymore! Why would Livonia be here, on this camp and not in his side? Why was he wearing the same armour and clothes than the other foreign land?

"No, all the Estonian lands are now mine, as was promised by the Pope!"

Denmark's shrill scream brought Estonia out of his stupor.

"His Eminence promised only the northern part. The rest will be given to the Holy Order, to make sure faith will be spread to these heathen lands" the white-haired land said, his voice sure and steady.

"Gifted to you, you mean. I'm not stupid! You have already taken over Prussia. This is nothing but you being power hungry twit!" Denmark yelled. His face was red and angry, not at all like one would imagine victor's face to be after a triumphant battle.

"Oh no, it's not going to be mine at all. It's going to be awarded to the new branch of my order" Prussia smirked wolfishly, baring his oddly sharp canines. "From the goodness of my heart I took this poor little pagan under my wing to teach him the proper way. And His Holiness himself agreed that should be commended."

Estonia did not really know what was going on, but what ever it was, it made Denmark fume and Prussia and Livonia to try to hide their smirks.

"So what now, he's your lackey?" Denmark managed to get out.

"I'm Livonian Order, an autonomous part of Teutonic Knights. I was baptised and I gave my vow to His Grace I would bring the One True Faith to the heathens on my land. And for that, I was awarded my own nation, Terra Mariana" Livonia said solemnly, looking like an every bit of a prince in his shiny attire, if not for his difficulties of keeping a straight face.

"But yes, he's my lackey" Prussia quipped smirking. He reached out his hand to present a scroll of paper to the Dane.

Denmark took the scroll and opened it with a distrustful look on his face. His eyes scanned the paper for a moment, and then his face fell.

"This is all I get? Not even Øsel?" Denmark asked with a barely controlled voice.

"You get Reval" Prussia said and shrugged his shoulders.

"And him?" Denmark asked, pointing at Estonia who still stood in the corner, and who still had no idea what was happening.

"You can keep him" Prussia said. "I find it's best to rule when there's no land giving people hope for better. Like with Old Prussia. Out with the old, in with the new, and people follow you simply because there's no choice."

"Right" Denmark muttered. His voice was tense from pure disgust. "Good luck with that route."

"And now, if there's nothing else, I'll take my leave. Denmark, always a pleasure. Livonia, come! We're leaving!"

And with that, Prussia marched out of the tent. As Livonia turned to follow, Estonia realised this was the last chance to make some sense of the situation.

"Wait!" Estonia cried. Livonia stilled. "I need to know why you didn't come to me, like you promised"

Livonia let out a longsuffering sigh and turned around again. All this time the other land had avoided Estonia's gaze, but now Livonia looked him straight into eyes. Estonia gasped despite himself. Livonia's amber eyes were hard and cold, devoid of any warmth towards his little brother.

"Do you have trouble with your hearing or with your comprehension?" Livonia nastily replied. "I did not come to you because there was no point for both of us to be defeated, now was there?"

"But we had a deal to protect each other…"

"That deal fell through the moment important figures in the south decided we should be included in the Christendom whether we like it or not. There's no place for heathens and pagans in the Europe anymore: the only possible result of stubbornness is death. So I made a different deal and sat back to look how it would unravel."

Estonia was once again struck speechless. Livonia frowned at his horrified expression.

"Don't act all high and mighty, like you wouldn't have done the same thing in my shoes. That guy Teutonic Order…" Livonia said and pointed at the tent flap through which the other land had disappeared earlier. "Well he calls himself Prussia these days. You know why? Because he attacked the land originally called Prussia, killed him, and took his name."

Estonia didn't know what to say, and even if he did, he wasn't sure if he _could_ say anything.

"That's the fate of lands: survive by any means necessary or lie down and wait for the death. I chose to follow the first advice, you the latter. And look how it's working out for you, little brother" Livonia said and left the tent. A stunned silence ensued. Estonia and Denmark looked at the tent flap, then each other, both clearly not knowing what to say.

"What a bunch of bastards" Denmark breathed at last. Estonia, despite all that had happened, couldn't help but laugh at that observation. Denmark too snorted at his own remark.

"So here we are" Denmark said turning to face Estonia again after their laughter had died down.

Estonia just nodded, not trusting his voice which had failed him enough today.

"I'll just say like it is. I don't much care about this piece of land other than trade and that it's straight across the lands Sweden won years back. So pay your taxes and go through the motions of praying, and I'll leave you alone as much as possible. Deal?"

It was the best possible outcome for this situation, really. So Estonia forced a smile on his face and said: "Deal".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took quite a few artistic liberties with the Battle of Lyndanisse. I changed Wends to Prussia, since it was so convenient. This way I could explain what happened to Old Prussia, Teutonic Knights and Livonian Order in the same chapter. And make Livonia look like an ass from Estonia's perspective.
> 
> Igaunija = Estonia in Latvian, Taani = Denmark in Estonian, Taara = Estonian god (similar to Thor), Øsel = Saaremaa in Danish, Reval = what Tallinn was called back then


	7. The True End of Independence

Finland was in the middle of making food when the unexpected knock on the door startled him, and almost made him drop his spoon in the stew he was stirring. It was a rainy evening in the late fall, so it was already pitch black outside.

Finland grabbed his trusty knife from the sheath and went to open the door. He wasn't expecting anyone after all, and people rarely travelled in this kind of poor weather just for social calls. The years Finland had lived under the rule of Sweden had not been all bad, that much he could admit to himself, but they had been very lonely. Estonia's last visit had been decades ago, and even Tavastia – who normally loved to pester him – had stopped his visits all together.

_Better safe than sorry_ , Finland thought when he cautiously peeked outside while clutching his knife behind his back. The sight that greeted him was so unexpected that his weapon fell on the floor in his surprise.

There, on his porch stood Livonia. Dripping wet Livonia, sure, but that didn't seem to dim his bright eyes, or his ever lasting smirk. He was even taller than before, and dressed in clearly expensive armour and clothes.

"Are you going to invite me in, or am I to stand here all night while you gather your wits?" Livonia quipped, clearly enjoying the baffled look on Finland's face.

But this jibe brought Finland out of his stunned silence and he quickly opened the door all the way to let the other land in.

"Please come inside, let me take your cloak – oh it's _soaked_! – are you hungry, have you eaten? I just made reindeer stew!" Finland babbled excitedly now that his initial surprise had faded, intent on playing the part of a perfect and considering host.

Livonia handed him his cloak and went to warm up by the fire.

"No! Don't sit there!" Finland yelled as Livonia was about to sit on the bench by the hearth.

Livonia jumped, startled by the shout. Interestingly enough his first reaction was to crab the hilt of his sword.

"What? What it is?" he asked his gaze flicking between Finland and the door like someone was about to rush in any minute now. Livonia was in such a serious battle stance he barely noticed first that Finland snorted.

"…What?" Livonia asked again, his tone now a bit defensive. At least he had let go of his sword.

Finland still chuckled when he went to pick something up from the bench. He showed Livonia a small curled up adder.

"I didn't want you to crush little Fluffy. Or get bitten in the bottom by him" Finland sniggered.

Livonia was not amused.

"You have a snake in your home? A _venomous_ snake at that! As a pet? And you call it _Fluffy_?" Livonia asked. His voice was strained. If it was by barely controlled anger or something else even he didn't know.

But Finland was unfazed and still smiling.

"He's not a pet. He lives under the house and helps me by eating all the mice and rats. I sometimes give him milk and he comes up here to keep me company and to warm up! …When the owl's away, of course"

"…Of course" Livonia said with a neutral tone, but the expression on his face seemed to say 'you're absolutely insane'.

Finland put the little snake on the floor and it quickly disappeared between the floor boards. After that he turned his efforts to mothering his unexpected guest.

"Sit, sit! You must be famished after the journey!"

Livonia didn't answer. He stared at the crack between the floor boards where the snake had disappeared.

"I have beer to drink" Finland continued enthusiastically, while rummaging through his drawers in search of anything worthwhile to serve. "But I can go to get mead from storehouse if you'd like that instead."

"Finland, stop it! Beer is fine, so is stew" Livonia said with some bite to his words, but softened the tone by smiling at the end.

Finland paused and smiled back bit shyly.

"Right, right", he mumbled before he went to gather some plates and cups to serve the food and drinks with. After a short while they were both seated around the fire eating.

Finland took this opportunity to study Livonia with more care now that the other land was concentrating on his food. Things were clearly going well for the other land. He was not only grown taller and older, but his figure had filled out too. He looked like a young man in his prime. Not to mention his armour and clothes!

Finland felt a twinge of jealousy looking at the other land's expensive gear. He had never owned anything even half as fine! Even Sweden's gifts paled in comparison.

But the he shook his head. It was no use to sit here and wish things were different. Instead he asked Livonia: "so, what brings you here?"

"I was given an order" Livonia said between the bites. "By the Pope. You know of him, right?"

Finland vaguely recalled something Sweden had said about this ruler of the new religion and nodded.

"Yeah, great" Livonia smiled. "I've met him only once, but my… friend… gets all his orders directly from him. And he ordered me to come here to help protect you from Novgorod."

"Really?" Finland asked, eyes wide and a bit bewildered. "Why?"

"Oh Soome" Livonia sighed dramatically. "I remember the time when you would've jumped to hug me and sing my praises for a lot less."

"…And now you just question my good intentions" Livonia continued his teasing. "Oh where has that trusting child gone?"

"Well, after what Sve did to me it's no wonder…" Finland muttered embarrassed by the mockery.

"Speaking of Sweden, he's still like… _that_ to you?"

"Like what?" Finland asked, again baffled.

But Livonia didn't answer. He just smirked like he already got his answer.

"Now as to why I'm here" Livonia changed the subject, yet again serious. "I'm here to protect you, and to make sure your people are made proper Christians. The eastern heretics have tried to get this part of the north under their influence, and no one wants that, am I right?"

Finland didn't quite understand the difference between the two religious branches. They both worshipped the same god, they both had fancy rituals which made no sense to Finland, yet they both insisted the other was dead wrong.

But if the distant ruler of this religion that had been forced upon him was offering him protection against Novgorod, then he would take it.

Finland nodded.

"Great!" Livonia exclaimed. "I have so much to do!"

* * *

Livonia stayed with Finland as the fall slowly but surely turned into winter. Despite Livonia's claims, Finland wasn't sure if the other land actually _did_ anything, other than depleted his beer and mead storage, that is. During the day Livonia would disappear, only to appear again for the supper.

Even though Finland liked the other land, he was starting to get annoyed. Livonia never helped him with his daily chores, but expected Finland to cook him a warm meal every day. If Finland tried to pry out how long he would still be staying, he never gave any straight answer.

Not to mention he wasn't very pleasant company.

Finland knew Livonia hated cold, hated winter and snow and slush and anything related to the season. But knowing it didn't make it any easier to hear the constant complaints. And boy did Livonia whine!

He started every morning by cursing the cold and darkness. He constantly talked about how it wasn't nearly as miserable as this in his own land, and how he couldn't understand at all why anyone would even bother with these northern wastes when there was nothing of value here.

Needless to say Finland was getting a bit miffed.

One afternoon Livonia came back from his daily ventures earlier than normally, clearly in a better mood than in ages. He was actually whistling while polishing his sword by the only window of the small hut instead of grumbling about lack of food which had usually been the case.

Finland didn't know what prompted this sudden change, but he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

They worked their little chores in a pleasant silence, Finland making food and other small household tasks, and Livonia working on maintaining his armour and weapons. And for the first time for weeks Finland thought it was actually nice to have some company in his usually lonely life.

"Finland?" Livonia asked, and Finland raised his gaze from the shirt he was mending. Livonia wasn't looking at him, but at the outside from the small window.

Finland was really proud of his real glass window. He had bought the small squares of thick glass from a Danish merchant few years back. They had cost him a small fortune, but the glass window allowed him to see down the river and the path leading to the hut. In Finland's mind the prize had been worth it.

"Yes?" Finland replied. Livonia's tone had been odd, and his body seemed to be a bit tense, like he was both excited and expectant at the same time.

But then Livonia turned to face him again with a smile on his face.

"Could you bring my armour plate? It's by the bed" Livonia asked, and something about his tone and expression made Finland suddenly very wary. Livonia's smile was bit too wide, his eyes too wild and dark.

But on the other it had been an innocent request, and the last thing Finland wanted was to break Livonia's good mood. So Finland got up and went to get Livonia's armour.

Livonia sat up too and joined him by the bed. And just as Finland turned, and was about to ask him why Livonia had wanted him to go to get the armour if the other land was coming over anyway, he was grabbed and pulled down on the bed.

Finland blinked, and looked at the taller land now lying under him. Livonia was smirking, and his expression was self-satisfied. But when Finland had gathered enough of his wits that he tried to get up, Livonia's smirk fell. His grip of the younger land's arms tightened, and his eyes were alarmed.

"Please wait" he gasped.

Finland looked down at him again, not understanding at all what was happening, but even still, he stopped trying to get up.

"I have always liked you, Finland. Always…" Livonia said, and his other arm let go of Finland's arm and gently moved to cup the back of his head.

_Why is he saying this, doing this? Why now?_ Finland thought. Livonia had never shown any interest in him. During all these weeks he had not once tried to even seek him out or anything of the sort. Hell, he hadn't even been _nice_.

"I like how you are so nice to everybody, anytime… you are so naïve… I wonder sometimes if your innocence is even real or if you just use it like you use your pretty face to make others take the hits…"

_What?_ Finland thought, _I don't 'use my pretty face'!_

Finland felt completely bewildered. He tried to search Livonia's face for any sign that he was joking, but his face was unusually sincere.

"I don't… I mean, I…" Finland breathed.

"I like you, but that doesn't mean I can't see what you're doing. You make others fall for you, and you make them hope… but their hope is in vain. You're just using them" Livonia whispered.

A sudden noise from the door made Livonia glance up. Finland couldn't turn his head, it was firmly held in place by the other land's hand, but what ever Livonia saw, it made his face turn victorious.

"…So now, I'm returning the favour!" Livonia whispered and pushed at the back of Finland's head so that their lips smashed together.

Finland yelped, but the noise was swallowed by Livonia's mouth on his. The kiss – if it even could be called that – was brutal. There was no affection, just punishing force and teeth clicking together.

And just as quickly as it had started, it was over. A sudden force pried Livonia's grip off of him and yanked him from the bed. But Finland had only few seconds to realise it had been Sweden who had pulled him away from Livonia's odd assault, before the tall northern land went after Livonia.

"It's rude not to knock you know..." Livonia started to say snidely before Sweden's fist shut him up.

"No! Sve, stop! Stop!" Finland screamed, and after a few more hits, he managed to pry Sweden off of Livonia.

Livonia carefully sat up on the bed. He has a split lip, but that didn't deter him from smirking.

"All ways the brute, Sweden, I see" Livonia quipped, and made a show of spitting blood on the floor. Finland felt the need to protest at that, but he feared that saying anything now might trigger the fighting again.

"Get out" Sweden growled.

"Oh no, Sweden, I'm not going anywhere" Livonia said with a wolfish grin. "You know that I have my _mission_. After all, if you wouldn't have been so lenient with the locals, there'd be no need for my presence…"

Sweden frowned. Finland looked at him and then at Livonia, and felt yet again like he was missing something important.

"But" Livonia continued, eyes shining and lips curled. "If you'd like a chance to correct things, I'd be more than happy to oblige. Otherwise, I'll just stay here, in this hut – with Finland – for as long as it takes me."

Sweden was silent. But he was clearly considering what Livonia had said. Finland didn't get it at all. What sort of hold Livonia had over Sweden that the taller land could not just make him leave?

"Fine" Sweden grumbled at last. "What do I gonna have to do?"

"Oh, just what you promised to do when you grabbed these lands. Convert the pagans and weed out their customs, nothing more, nothing less."

"Fine."

"All the pagans, mind you. Not that these here, but _all_."

"Fine. Now get out!" Sweden shouted.

Livonia stood up and lazily flexed his muscles. He made a right out show out of putting on his armour and gathering the rest of his gear, all while Sweden glared at him and watched his every move like a hawk. Finland didn't know what to think or to do, so he stayed silent and still, wishing Livonia would make haste. And that preferably Sweden would follow him in his leave.

A while after, Livonia finally moved to the door with all his stuff.

"I'll take my leave then" he sighed dramatically and made an odd little wave with his free hand.

"And Finland?" he said now seriously. "Think about what I said. Don't do that to the ones you love. Friends don't deserve it."

But then all his seriousness was gone, and he added with a cheeky grin and a wink: "but if you ever feel like having another romp, you know where to find me."

Livonia made a hasty exist after that.

And now Finland was left alone with Sweden. A seething Sweden who was barely in control of his emotions. Finland feared that the rage of the taller land would now be turned to him.

"Are ya alright?" Sweden asked instead, surprising Finland.

He nodded, not trusting his voice.

"Did he try to hurt ya …before this?" Sweden asked then, his eyes oddly tender and with a desperate note in his voice.

"No" Finland said. He thought Sweden needed a bit more information than that, so he added: "I barely even saw him, other than the mornings and the evenings. He didn't even speak to me much".

Sweden sighed, and looked relieved. He went to sit by the hearth and motioned to Finland to join him.

Finland, utterly perplexed by the events, forgot he was supposed to be angry at Sweden and sat on the bench across him.

"It was ruse, then. To make me angry, to make me agree" Sweden mumbled. His gaze was firmly fixed on the fire. "And he did."

"Ruse?" Finland repeated, puzzled. Then it hit him. "No wonder he was looking so intently out of the window! He must've seen you coming!"

Sweden nodded absentmindedly, but remained silent and still staring the fire.

"So what do we do now?" Finland asked at last when the silence begun to feel a touch too heavy for him.

"We?" Sweden asked back with a faint smile. Finland flushed bright red at that.

"Well, we're in this together, right?" Finland said, trying to keep his tone light, and not to let his embarrassment show. "So what happens next?"

Sweden's face darkened again.

"I'm gonna have to do what he wanted. I'll have to do what m'king wants… and m'king does what the pope wants done. Livland send me the orders. I have to follow them, or stand back and let him do them. Better that it's me…"

Finland listened, feeling slightly captivated. This was the longest he had heard Sweden speak since… well, ever. And he spoke about things Finland had had no idea of. Sweden had always seemed so fiercely independent and proud to Finland that it was surprising to learn even he had his orders to follow.

"But why Liivi?" Finland wondered aloud.

"It's not Livland, not really" Sweden answered all the same. "He's just a lackey. A messenger. A pawn."

"Like we all are" Sweden added darkly under his breath. Finland wasn't sure if he was meant to hear that.

"What are the orders then?" Finland asked, telling himself it was best to make use of Sweden's unusual openness.

"Ya have to let go of old gods, of old ways. Really let go, not like ya have done till now" Sweden said.

It was as Finland had thought. He wasn't happy about it – far from it – but he got it. He had no choice. The sacred groves, the sacrificial trees – all had to go. Luckily the haltijas did not need the ritual places – they were creatures of the woods, always had been, always would be, and as long there were forests, they were going to be part of this land.

"And", Sweden took a deep breath before he continued, "Tavastland has to do it too. To come under m'protection, and to convert. _Really_ convert."

All blood rushed from Finland's face. This was going to affect Tavastia, too? He felt faint. Tavastia was proud. Too proud, perhaps. He would never surrender the way Finland had, or agree to let go of their ways. And judging by the look of Sweden's face, the other land knew this as well.

"And if he fights back?" Finland whispered, fearing the answer.

Sweden refused to look at Finland, and just shook his head.

"Even if he could win against me… Someone else is gonna come from south. Yer not remote enough, not anymore."

They both fell silent, deep in thought.

"Sve" Finland said to get the attention of Sweden again. "Promise me you won't hurt his people. Try to spare them, and I'll promise to help you with Häme."

_Häme doesn't always think things through and his people can't suffer for it. He'd hate himself later_ , Finland justified his offer to Sweden in his own mind. Still, little nagging voice in the back of his head chanted: _he's not the only one who might end up hating himself_ …

Sweden looked at Finland with a steady gaze.

"I promise" he said at last.

* * *

Sweden's extraordinary bout of honesty was short-lived. After that evening, Sweden went back to his typical, taciturn ways, and Finland yet again had to guess what the other nation was thinking or planning.

Still, Finland kept his end of their bargain. The sacred groves were burned and the sacrificial trees were cut down. It had hurt, more deeply than he had thought it would. It was as if suddenly a part of his very self had been destroyed.

But he didn't realise how important that part had been until the next time he went to hunt. The forest had seemed oddly still, silent. The woods felt alien to him, the very place that had once been his home, his shelter. And when he whispered his pleas to the forest spirits, they went unanswered.

In his desperation he sang all the runes he knew, trying to appease, to apologise. But he knew – he felt it with every inch of his being – his words were now nothing more than a string of pleasant noise, void of power, void of brimming life they had once commanded.

And there – in the middle of the ancient forest from which he had been born of – he sank to the ground, and wept. Even if his thick bed made of moss was as comfortable as ever, it no longer whispered to him, or warmed under his touch. The forest was deafened to him, no longer welcoming him as a kin.

And he could do nothing else than to weep and mourn. Because Finland knew that he had done what needed to be done, if he wanted to survive in this new world which had no room for ancient magic or for pagan beliefs.

Because he would survive, even if it meant he had to leave this part of his soul behind.

_Keep it safe for me_ , Finland begged one last time. Only a distant call of an owl answered his plea. The forest and the spirits were stubbornly silent.

But perhaps they still listened, even if they refused to answer – or simply could not.

* * *

The matter of Tavastia did take longer to solve.

Finland went on with his life, trying to forget any connection to the forest that he had once had. He had stopped singing all together. It just hurt too much. Sweden had noticed something was off, and sometimes he tried to clumsily ask the younger land about it, but Finland remained silent. It had been his decision, and his only. It wasn't like Sweden himself readily told him anything, not even things that involved Finland, so why should he act any different?

Years went by, and Finland started to hope that Sweden had changed his mind about Tavastia.

His hopes were a mere futile fantasy. Sweden wasn't the type of person who simply forgot something.

The military force that landed on Finland's shore in the summer of 1249 was still a surprise, though. It left no question if Sweden was serious about conquering Tavastia.

And Finland had no choice, but to follow Sweden and his army, bound by his promise as he was.

Tavastians offered little resistance, oddly enough. They had a reputation of being fierce fighter, one that Finland would gladly confirm having fought beside them in various different battles. Perhaps they had trusted that the Finns would warn them with signal fires long before any threat could reach them.

But what ever the reason, the Swedish forces advanced deeper into Tavastian lands faster than anyone had expected. The deeper they went, the more they started to come across abandoned villages and homes, just recently deserted. Tavastians did what the Baltic Finns had always done when the enemy threatened them, ever since the dawn of time – they hid in the woods and waited for the danger to pass.

But the world had changed. This danger wasn't something that could be starved or lost in the woods, not by simply running and hiding.

They reached the heart of Tavastia only after a matter of days, and that was when the real fighting begun.

Finland couldn't bear the thought of raising his hand to strike a kin, and thankfully Sweden did not ask him of that. So instead, he stayed behind, tending the wounded. Sweden kept his word as well. The war never changed, it was always awful, always damaging. But Swedish soldiers weren't cruel, or needlessly violent. That – as tiny comfort as it was – Finland was grateful of.

As the fifth day of fighting dawned, the Swedes launched their biggest attack yet. It was clear that the Tavastians were outmatched and out-equipped, but they did put up a hell of a fight, none of the less.

Finland had stayed in the tent for most of the battle. _Like a coward you are_ , a voice that sounded an awfully lot like Tavastia whispered in his mind.

But now, something called him to the taken, ruined Tavastian keep. And he answered the call, walking through the battle field, his hand on his sheated knife all the time in case of an attack. But the battle field had already fallen silent. Only a few soldiers walked around, trying to see if somebody lying on the field could still be saved.

Finland made note of this, not quite sure how he felt about it. Usually only a quick jab of a sword to the neck was reserved to the fallen enemy soldiers, to make sure no one feigning death. Though Finland was glad that was not happening now, it was still horrifying to see so many fallen bodies.

Inside the keep, he saw Sweden, leaning over a body and checking his life signs. Finland knew, with his whole being, whose body that was.

A terrible frigid calm came over him, freezing him to the core. Finland stepped silently closer, until he stood only a few paces away from the pair. Tavastia laid on the ground face up, his beautiful light violet eyes open but unseeing. His shirt was open, revealing the sword gash which had sapped the other land from his life.

"Finland" Sweden gasped. He had finally realised the other land's presence. "He'll wake up, I had to –"

But when Finland looked at him, something Sweden saw in the younger land's eyes made him shut up and quickly scamper away. In any other circumstances that might have given some satisfaction to Finland, but now the only thing he could concentrate on was his brother. His poor, lifeless brother, who looked fragile – like a porcelain doll – in death.

Finland sat on the ground and gathered his brother's lifeless body in his arms, gently and carefully.

" _Piäty, veri, vuotamasta, hurme huppelehtamasta_ …" He started to sing the ancient words for closing the wound. But the power of the runes was gone, out of his reach, and he quickly fell silent again.

There was nothing to do but to wait and hope that Tavastia could come back. Finland clung to that hope. So many of his people were still left, like Sweden had promised, surely it would matter?

Finland felt a twinge in his heart. He had asked a fair treatment for Tavastia's people, but never, even in his wildest dreams, had he thought that he would have needed to beg for mercy for his brother.

_Sve killed Häme. Sve killed Häme, and I let it happen. I helped to make it happen_ , he thought, haunted. Gently he brushed Tavastia's hair out of his eyes, and then closed them. He couldn't bear to see them like that, without the fire that normally brightened them.

Finland didn't know how long he sat there, holding his brother. Sky darkened slowly, until it was as dark as it would become in the short summer. All Finland could do was to keep his eyes on Tavastia, in case of any sign of life. At some point though, sleep must have claimed him, because when he stirred, it was already getting lighter.

"Suomi…" said a voice, hardly even audible.

"Häme! No, don't try to speak" Finland shushed Tavastia, now overwhelmed by his emotions. Tears ran freely, but he barely noticed them. He quickly checked the wound. It was still covered by dried blood, but it had closed during the night.

"I'm going to carry you to my tent, it might hurt a bit. I'm sorry" Finland babbled and lifted his brother over his shoulder. Tavastia winced, but wasn't any worse to wear. The joy must have given Finland some extra strength, since Tavastia felt light like a feather.

In the tent Finland placed Tavastia on the bed.

"Hurts…" Tavastia whimpered.

"Hush" Finland shushed again. "I know. It'll get better when you wake up again, I promise."

And Tavastia fell asleep. Finland sat by his bed until he woke up again, hours later, and the some more.

* * *

_Österland, he calls us Österland_ , Finland thought, annoyed.

The war was over, and Tavastia was under Swedish control now. Sweden had kept his promise. Aside from having to give up all pagan beliefs and pay taxes to Swedish king, the life of an average Tavastian had not changed much.

But Finland now longer felt it was any consolation. His goodwill towards Sweden had ended at the exact moment the tall land had decided to run his sword through his brother.

Tavastia did not blame Finland, even if Finland wanted him to. It would have made his conscience clearer. Tavastia was back to normal, at least physically. Sometimes he would wake up drenched in sweat but unable to remember seeing anything scary in his dreams …only endless darkness.

And now they were Österland, Eastern land, as Sweden called them. It grated on both of their nerves. Luckily Sweden seemed to realise he had stepped over the line – well, Finland personally thought he had missed it by a mile – but at least now the other land realised the best thing he could do was to keep some distance.

Both Finland and Tavastia were glad of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About the snake... People really kept pet snakes then, though usually they were grass snakes. Were cats just not available? I don't know.
> 
> A few notes of history. In 1232 The Livonian Brothers of the Sword were ordered to defend Finland against Novgorod. Also, in 1230's Tavastians repelled against church, prompting the papal demand for crusade against them in 1237. In 1249 rest of (modern) Finland was taken over by the Swedes.
> 
> So my take on this is that Livonia was ordered to either make sure that Sweden properly 'christianized' the lands, or Livonia would have to do it himself. And since Livonia hates cold, and is uninterested in Finland or Tavastia, he manipulates Sweden to take action. And voilá! Perfectly valid pseudo-historical twist!
> 
> God I make Livonia seem such an arse...


	8. Treaties Made, Treaties Broken

Conquering Finland and Tavastia had not been enough for Sweden, not when he had the blessing of the western nations and the church, not to mention the moral right – even duty – to bring the last bastions of pagan Europe under the one true faith. And if Sweden had something to gain from all this, was it not a deserved prize for his righteous actions?

The little details – like the fact that more eastward he went, the more likely it was that the locals had already converted – did not matter much, since these people had adopted a wrong type of Christianity. They were heathens in the eyes of the western church, worse than pagans, because they were not ignorant, but simply _wrong_ in their beliefs.

For Finland and Tavastia this meant constant war with Novgorod.

Sweden came, and demanded men, supplies and funds. And they complied, for what else was there for them to do? But they did not follow Sweden to east, nor did Sweden command them to.

Perhaps this was his way to show regret, Finland sometimes thought.

Tavastia had been living with Finland ever since his… incident. He had become more quiet and subdued. All in all, even if he now was more pleasant to be around, Finland still wished he would get the old Tavastia back, brash comments and odd sense of humour included.

Every time Sweden visited – which was not thankfully often these days – Tavastia made himself scarce, disappearing for days in the forest. The few times Sweden had caught them off guard with his visits, Tavastia had put on a brave face and seemed almost normal – if not for his paler than usual complexion and the hurried glances to make sure Sweden was at least good few paces away from him at all times.

As for Finland, he had not forgiven Sweden. He only answered direct questions from the other nation and never spoke at him unprompted. And when he had to speak, his tone of voice was respectful enough, but aloof and cold.

Every time Sweden came to visit, he at first sounded hopeful, but right after seeing Finland's uncharacteristically stand-offish behaviour, his whole being seemed to deflate. It was heart-breaking to see, especially from the normally so inexpressive young man. But every time Finland felt those pangs in his heart and thought of forgiving the other nation, flashes of his brother's unseeing violet eyes on his mind reminded him why he would not – could not – forgive Sweden.

So they went on with this odd play of tension masked with indifference. Sweden spent more and more time in the east, and while both Finland and Tavastia were concerned of what this meant for Karelia, they rarely spoke of it even to each other.

They lent more and more troops and supplies, until they had none to spare. But Sweden was adamant. In the end they had no option but to go with remaining men – those normally tasked with the protection of their lands – to try to minimise the losses.

And when they travelled to the east on the new road on the coast, for the first time they truly saw the changes Sweden had brought to their shores. This part of coast had belonged to Tavastia, but it had always been sparsely populated. Tavastians had favoured the lakes in the inland. But now the coastline was sprinkled with farmsteads and people – just not theirs, but Sweden's.

They had felt the changes, of course, but it was different thing to see them with their own eyes.

The change was even more dramatic when they stepped on the Karelian lands. The war had ravaged the land, leaving many homes abandoned or pillaged and burned down. The castle of Vyborg was bustling though, filled with bustling soldiers from all over the realm. The tower was barely two decades old, but it looked battered like it had stood there centuries.

They left their men in the courtyard and climbed the steep stairs until they reached the main hall. The hall was a cacophony of people, but Sweden was easy to spot. He stood in the middle of the hall, and was almost a head taller than the rest.

But just as Finland was about to take a step towards Sweden, a gasp of breath from Tavastia made him turn his attention to the other direction.

"Karjala!" Tavastia screamed and ran.

Finland could hardly believe his own eyes. There she was, Karelia, with her familiar curly red hair cascading down her back, laughing as Tavastia swirled her around the room in his arms. And Finland rushed there too, to catch her in his own embrace as soon as Tavastia let go of her.

Then he gently pushed her back a bit, to get a look at her. She had grown taller, she now had an half a head on Finland. She looked tired and her eyes were red and puffy, and full of tears, but her smile reached almost from ear to ear.

"Why are you crying?" She asked and gently wiped a tear from his cheek. Finland hadn't even realised.

"Why are you?" He retorted, but got no answer other than a giggle before she pulled him back to her arms.

When she released him, he stepped back to allow Tavastia to hug her again.

Now that the shock of seeing Karelia again after more than a century was starting to fade away, Finland realised all the eyes in the room were on them, including those of Sweden's. But just as their eyes locked across the hall, Sweden turned his gaze away and refused to look at their direction again.

Finland didn't dwell on that for long, though. Soon his all of his attention was yet again focused on Karelia and his brother.

"Come, come", Karelia grabbed their hands and led them away from the hall. She led them through a corridor after corridor through the tower until they were ushered inside of a small chamber.

"Sit, please" Karelia said, "this is my room. No one will bother us here".

And talk they did, well in to the night. Karelia told them about the life under Russian rule, and Finland and Tavastia told her about how they had fallen under Sweden. Or rather, Tavastia talked, Finland saying a word now and then. But he didn't mind. It had been quite some time Finland had seen his brother this animated.

"Aren't you glad to be away from Novgorod?" Tavastia asked her.

"Glad? No, not really…" Karelia answered, and after seeing their astonished expressions, she hurried to add: "He isn't that bad, I think. Just misguided and slow to trust anyone. But even during the bad times I had Ingria there with me. It's easier to forget your own troubles when somebody depends on you.

"When Sweden first brought me here, in this cold dark keep, I was miserable. I wasn't any freer than I was night before, but now I was alone…"

She paused then, and smiled.

"But I'm not alone anymore. I got you two back."

Finland and Tavastia smiled at her easily enough.

Then Tavastia started telling her about his defeat – without mentioning the little detail that was his death, Finland noticed – when she said: "and that's why you're holding a grudge? I've been passed around like a bag of turnips here more times than I can care to count, but you still give your new master a silent treatment for something that happened half a century ago?"

Tavastia fell silent. Finland felt indignant on his behalf, though.

"That's unfair! You don't know what you're talking about! Tavastia lost his…" Finland started to say, but Tavastia's sudden glare made him swallow the end of the sentence that was '…life'.

"…independence" Finland said instead, and it sounded an awfully weak argument even to his own ears. But how could he argue about this if he couldn't tell his main reason for staying mad?

"Well, that's still dumb. Sweden obviously likes you even now, Finland. He would probably tell you his plans, or even listen to you if you just talked to him."

But Finland shook his head. He couldn't. Sweden had hurt Tavastia, and his brother still wasn't back to normal.

A gentle touch made him lock his gaze with a pair of warm green eyes. Karelia looked pleadingly at him.

"Do it for me, then. I don't know how long I can take this constant fighting. My people spend more time fleeing than doing anything else. This land is well on its way to becoming a wasteland. He would listen to you, I know he would. Please…"

Finland did not what to say. He knew the situation had been bad, but to hear the other land was on a brink of desolation? How could he say no to a girl he loved like a sister?

"Fine", Finland whispered, defeated.

"Thank you, Suomi", Karelia whispered back. She looked at him so gratefully that he couldn't feel any ill feelings about her unfair plea.

"I can you show where Sweden works", she continued.

"You want me to do it now? In the middle of the night? Sweden is probably already sleeping!"

"No, he isn't. He usually works through the night. Come, we'll see if the there's light in his chamber", Karelia said, and ushered him out of the room.

Finland groaned loudly but did not argue. He already knew it was futile with this force of nature of a girl.

It was as Karelia had said. There definitely was a stream of light coming from under the door to where the other land had guided him to.

"Karjala, don't make me do this. What would I say?" Finland whispered, voice tense.

Karelia didn't seem to have any empathy for him, though. She merely winked at him and said: "oh, I'm sure you'll manage".

But before Finland had time to ask her what was that supposed to mean, she had knocked the door and ran away.

"Com'in" came the muffled reply through the door.

For a brief moment Finland thought about just leaving and quietly following Karelia. But he had promised her, hadn't he? So he took a deep breath, and opened the door.

"It's just me, Finland", he said and peeked in.

The room wasn't much bigger than Karelia's, which surprised him. Sweden was sitting behind a heavy-looking wooden desk writing something, though he looked thoroughly started when he realised who it was standing there by the door.

"I can come back later – that is, in the morning – if this is a bad time?" Finland mumbled cheeks red in embarrassment. Why was he even asking that? Of course it was a bad time, it was well past midnight! Not even waiting for answer, he started to close the door again, saying: "I'm sorry, I'll just go…"

"NO!"

Finland froze. Sweden had stood up and raised his hand like he could physically pull Finland into the room. He also looked just as embarrassed as Finland felt.

"I – I mean… Ya can come in, if ya like", Sweden said.

Finland stepped in and closed the door behind him. Ha had no clue where to start, so he opted for looking around the chamber. It was not a big room, but it was very well lighted with a bunch of bee wax candles which must have cost a fortune.

There was a bed in the corner, and a desk next to it. Most of the space was taken by a table in the middle of the room. It was filled with papers and a one great map. Finland bent over a bit to get a better look of it. It was a work of art, as far as maps go, and there was blue and red painted wooden buttons to mark some points on the map.

"Are the blue ones yours?" Finland asked, and jumped a little when he realised Sweden was standing right next to him.

Sweden nodded, and Finland turned his attention back to the map to hide his yet again reddening cheeks.

"It's… not going well, is it?" Finland asked after a while. It was obvious, really. He had known it before, yes, but after seeing this map Finland realised that it was not only going badly, it was going to go much worse very soon.

"No", Sweden simply answered.

"Then what are you going to do?" Finland asked, his voice hesitant. He didn't know if he was in a position to ask such things. But Sweden answered his question, none of the less.

"Attack here", he pointed on a map, "force the Russians back here. Or here, if I can. Then sue for peace".

This made Finland look at Sweden in surprise. The other nation wasn't looking at him, though, but at the map, deep in thought.

"You think he'll agree?" Finland gasped. Novgorod had the upper hand after all, at least according to this map.

Sweden raised his gaze to his. His stare was so intense that Finland found it hard to maintain the eye contact. After only a short moment, Finland had to turn his eyes back to the map.

"I don't see why not", Sweden said at last, with a shrug, "he's the one who first asked for it".

* * *

Estonia stood still. An unforgiving wind was blowing from the sea, making his hair dance wildly. He didn't care. Even if the wind made him shiver, it was a welcoming change to the numbness that had taken a hold of his soul.

Life under Danish rule was not unbearable, nor was it agonizing. In fact, Denmark didn't even seem to care about him other than as an opportunity to collect a levy. Not that he minded much, no. He was happily staying under the radar: out of sight, out if mind, as it was.

But this policy of appeasement had also made him numb to the world. Denmark did not want him to travel outside his borders, so he did not. He had no longer any say on the matters of state, but instead patiently waited orders from the capital on the other side of the sea, usually conveyed to him by the Viceroy – the person appointed by the Danish King to ruled Estonia in his place.

He had accepted his place in this world: he was a pawn at best, a means to an end at worst.

"There you are!"

Estonia flinched. He had let his dark thoughts pull him so deep he had not even heard Denmark approach. Denmark's hair was a mess, as usual, and he was smiling his customary wolfish grin. This did not put Estonia any at ease though. He had long ago learned that Denmark's smirks and smiles were just as effective mask for his true intentions as Sweden's impassive face was.

"You were hard to find, Estland!" Denmark said when he had reached Estonia's side.

Estonia he did not know why the other land had sought him out. In fact, this was highly unusual and unnerving. They had almost perfected the dance of casually avoiding each other during the almost 100 years of Danish reign.

"Danmark" Estonia acknowledged and nodded as a greeting. Then he fell silent awaiting the awful news bound to come. Because what else would have made the other nation to actually search for him?

But Denmark did not speak right away. He too had turned to watch the raging grey sea. Estonia waited, now even more nervous. This couldn't be good if even Denmark – who really did not posses even an ounce of subtlety or consideration for his subjects – was unwilling to just out right say what was on his mind.

"This is… troubling, this divide" Denmark started, and despite himself, Estonia felt himself get bristled up. This 'divide', as Denmark called it, was not _his_ fault – on the contrary! It originated from the power struggle within the Danish royal family.

"Did we change kings again?" Estonia asked snidely and immediately regretted speaking out his mind.

Thankfully there was too much truth in his words. Though Denmark glared at Estonia for speaking out of turn, it was all he could do. Denmark was ruled by warring branches of royals, who used every opportunity to try to grab the power. 'The King of Denmark' was not very permanent position these days.

"As I said, this divide of _yours_ is troubling me" Denmark continued as if he had not even heard Estonia.

It was true – Estonia was also divided into warring factions, half of which supported Denmark and the other half which had thrown their weight behind Teutonic Order. But Estonia had deliberately stayed out these skirmishes. In truth, they had nothing to do with him, or his people. It was the foreign clergy and the German nobles and merchants who had decided to fight it out amongst themselves – who was he to step in to reign it in, when all he wished was that they would just end up finishing each other off and leaving his people be.

"And what would you want me to do about it?" Estonia asked, his voice sounding once again perfectly polite even though he was feeling quite the opposite.

Denmark let out a long-suffering sigh and rubbed his eyes.

Estonia glanced at the other nation on the corner of his eye. Denmark looked worn out and tired, though it was no wonder considering his troubles.

"I need you to pick sides. _My side_ that is" Denmark said at last. He turned his deep blue eyes at Estonia, his gaze steady, and face hard and commanding. The dark circles under his eyes only made his expression more ominous.

"I'll do my best" Estonia said, his tone still light, civil and entirely indifferent, even if his palms started to feel clammy and his heart beat increased.

But Denmark was having none of his polite non-answers.

"Stop it, Eduard!" Denmark snapped.

Estonia wasn't sure if he was more surprised at Denmark's sudden outburst or more irritated that the other nation had used his new Christian name. This new name of his had been but a one tiny part of christening his land – he too had had to let go his pagan customs, and accept the changes.

But before Estonia got a chance to retort, Denmark continued. But this time his voice was also urgent and sincere – though still very heated.

"Don't give me that dismissive crap! I don't like this situation any more than you do, but it can't be helped. Sweden has signed a peace treaty with Novgorod – after decades of fighting! And they have drawn up the new borders on the map. They have divided Karelia between them. This means Novgorod will be a serious threat to me, to us, from now on!"

Denmark took a deep breath and continued more calmly: "during all this time you have been under me, have I not protected you and your people?"

Estonia could not deny Denmark's words. He had been safe, as had been his people. He simply nodded.

"Are you not in a special position in the realm? Have I not allowed some of your people to hold their own lands?" Denmark asked.

This was all true. He was a personal possession of the King – all the laws of the kingdom also applied here, in his little corner of the Baltic Sea. And his people certainly had fared better under Danish rule than those unfortunate enough to live in regions which had been ceded to Livonia.

Again Estonia nodded.

"But the truth is that I'm stretched too thin. I'm trying to keep the infighting in check at the capital while also trying to wage war with Novgorod and protect the realm. This situation here… Estonia I need your help."

Estonia was silent, but not unmoved. He had never heard Denmark speak so… _frankly_ before. But he was still the underling, he _had_ to think himself first – that was exactly what Denmark would do in his situation despite any heartfelt speeches.

"So what do you really want me to do then? I won't risk my people, I won't – "

But his sentence was cut off by the dismissive gesture the other land made. Estonia snapped his mouth shut.

"Nothing like that. You still have a sway over your mercenaries, right? So nudge them into the right direction so they'll pick my side. They'll get paid and everyone wins. Also, try to get the average people to be more sympathetic with my priests and nobles. This is not the time to have peasant rebellion."

"Right. And if I do all that, what do get?"

"What?" Denmark said eyes wide, clearly surprised.

Estonia's hands were sweaty, and he wanted to swipe them on his pants, but could not. That would have just blatantly told Denmark how scared Estonia really was. He was only a minor vassal state, and here he was, making demands.

"If I do that, I'll need guaranties, _in writing_ , that you'll do everything in your power to protect me – and my people – no matter what."

Estonia was proud of himself that his voice didn't waver, nor did it give away his nervousness.

Denmark stared at him with a blank look. Estonia was sure the other land could hear the loud thumping of his heart, or at least see the visible drops of sweat forming on his forehead. What had he been thinking? He could barely order what he wanted for breakfast; he wasn't in any position to dictate anything like this!

But then – just as Estonia was sure his heart would give up from stress – Denmark actually burst out in laughter.

Estonia didn't join in, though he did relax considerably.

It was a hearty laugh, the kind that normally invited others to join. Despite all that had happened, Estonia was glad someone in this messed-up world could still laugh like that. He sure hadn't in a longer time than he cared to remember.

"Oh, you are a brave little land, Estland, you sure are", Denmark chuckled now that his laughter started to wind down, "I really like your fighting spirit."

Then he shook his head like he was trying to shake off the last residues of his mirth, and offered his hand to Estonia.

"Fine. Have it your way. I'll ask my king to write something up. Now then, do we have a deal?" Denmark asked still smiling brightly, and his hand in the air.

Estonia could not but be reminded about the similar situation almost a hundred years ago, when this exact same person had offered him a deal that ended up being quite a good one considering all the circumstances. Not needing to think this offer over, Estonia grabbed Denmark's hand and shook it firmly.

Things were finally looking up for Estonia.

* * *

And as always, when things started to look good, they came crashing down, as they usually did for Estonia.

It was a hard work, trying to keep different warring factions in line when they had been previously allowed to run amok. But he had managed.

That is, he did manage until the Danish King died and left a serious power vacuum in his stead. The whole Danish realm fell into political turmoil. And for Estonia, it meant that the other side had lost its backing in a one swift swoop.

The last straw was when his own people rebelled against the Danish rule. Estonia knew they meant well – they simply wanted Estonia to be independent – but their actions also meant that the merchants and nobles felt threatened. When it became apparent that the Danes couldn't curb the peasant rebellion, the German born vassals of the country almost invited Teutonic Order in.

Estonia retreated to Narva to buy some time so the help from Denmark could arrive. It was no use to try hold Livonia and Prussia back on his own. The forces of Teutonic Order occupied the lands quickly, and reached Narva river within weeks.

Estonia looked down from the highest tower at the troops on the ground. Teutonic Order was preparing for the siege. Estonia almost felt like laughing. They could barely feed their own few men as it was, a siege against them wouldn't last for a week. This had Livonia written all over, Estonia was sure. No one else would have called for such an overkill move when the victory was already certain.

Estonia stroked a paper in his pocket. The parchment felt coarse under his fingertips, but it calmed his as he chanted the words on the paper in his mind.

"WE, CHRISTIAN II…" it began. It was the promise he had demanded for his help, signed by the king.

"...never to abandon or sell Estonia…" he whispered aloud, for comfort. Denmark wouldn't abandon him, no matter what. The promise had been made before God and all men. More than honour was at stake.

He couldn't help but to fantasize the possibility that he could, despite all odds, hold the line until next spring. It would be so much easier for Denmark to regain the lands if they could have a foothold ready.

Alas, it was not to be. Estonia sighed and gave the order to surrender.

Estonia received the occupiers in the hall. Livonia strode in like he owned the place – which he now did, Estonia had to remind himself. He was surprised to notice Livonia had come alone. He had thought that Prussia would keep the other land on a tight leash.

"Nice to you, brother. Eduard, is it not, these days?" Livonia said in a frightfully civil voice. Like he was here to chat over a cup of tea, instead of the out-right occupation.

"Livonia", Estonia greeted back, though his tone was more distant and guarded.

"Nice of you to let us in without any hassle. I see you have learnt to recognise a futile situation" Livonia continued in the same infuriatingly proper manner.

Even though Estonia had chanted in his mind: _don't let him get to you, don't let him get to you_ , he could not help himself.

"Don't get too comfortable. I don't think you'll stay for too long."

This got Livonia's attention.

"Oh, you think so? And who will make me leave, pray tell, hmm? _You_? Oh don't make me laugh, brother dear!"

Estonia kept his mouth firmly shut, but Livonia seemed to read the answer from his defiant expression. Livonia's polite smile at last melted away into an angry grimace.

"Don't tell me you expect Denmark to help you still? Oh, you _little fool_! Why won't you _learn_?"

Without any further ado Livonia strode forward, and planted a letter on Estonia's lap.

"What's this?" Estonia asked, puzzled.

"Just read it. You know how to, right?" came the testy retort.

Estonia glared at Livonia, but did as was told. The letter seemed to be some kind of bill of sale. _19 000 Köln marks_ , it said, _for all the Danish counties of Estonia_.

_No… no, it couldn't be!_ Estonia thought. But there it was, in writing. With the same royal seal that adorned his promise. The promise to never to be abandoned or _sold_ …

_I don't understand. They promised to help me in the name of their God_ , Estonia thought.

"And that's why you're yet again in this situation. You can't trust anyone! Sooner you learn that lesson, the better. A promise to a god doesn't mean a squat. Denmark will ask forgiveness from Vatican, and will receive it with a reprimand barely worth of a mention", Livonia answered, his voice oddly gentle.

Estonia hadn't even realised he had said his thoughts out loud. He didn't know what to think or feel, or how to deal to deal with Livonia now.

"Hey, at least you made a decent dent in Prussia's gold vault, if that's any consolation."

Estonia stared at Livonia, eyes wide and mouth open in dismay. Was he making a _joke_ about this situation? No, it was no consolation! His people had _died_ because of them, and the rest would lose their lands and become serfs to the German landlords. It was anything but funny! How dare he…?

It took all of Estonia's willpower to bite inside his cheek and avert his eyes, and to stay silent. It would do no good to lash out against the new master.

Livonia thankfully either didn't notice or simply didn't care about his inner struggle. If Estonia had learnt anything from his time on this earth, it was that it was best to be grateful even for small blessings.

He had a feeling there wouldn't be much to those in his future from now on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Few notes about the history. Sweden and Novgorod signed the treaty of Nöteborg in 1323 after a few centuries of fighting each other. Not that it stopped either of them, but at least they now had new fancy borders to put on the map.
> 
> And Estonia does what Estonia does best, that is, be betrayed yet again. Livonia seems to be my favourite bastard to write, though in his own way, he tries to teach his little brother some important life lessons. Oh, and the new Danish King really had to publicly repent for breaking the promise and ask forgiveness from the Pope.


	9. The Prelude to the Union

_Strong arms propped him up and forced something cool and disgusting to his lips. He turned up his nose at it and refused to open his mouth, though he was not strong enough to even turn his head completely away._

_A frustrated sigh and a pleading voice invaded his already ringing ears._

" _Ya have to eat. Drink. Ya have to get better. Have to. Please."_

* * *

The warning bells of the city jolted Finland awake, the sound booming in the stillness of the light summer night. His dream was pushed from his mind right away, for he knew why the bells rang. The Victual Brothers were here.

Finland stood up and began to dress. He had laid his armour and clothes ready so that they were easily available when needed. This was not the first time that the pirates known as the Victual Brothers – formerly a group of privateers working for by Hanseatic League before turning to pillaging and raiding – attacked here, or at the other towns and cities by the Baltic. The pirates had recently become such a threat that Finland had had to abandon his cosy little cottage, and take a refuge here, at the Turku castle.

He could see the bay from his small window. The sun was already shining brightly, slowly fading away the morning mist. Finland guessed from the position of the sun that it must not yet be even the proper morning, though it was difficult to tell at this of year, when the darkness of the night never truly fell.

He dressed quickly and grabbed his bow and quiver before opening the door, and rushing outside. He nearly plummeted into Tavastia, who stood on the other side, a fist raised in the air like he had been just about to knock. Both of them took a step back from surprise at first, though Tavastia quickly gathered his wits. His wide-eyed stunned stare changed into a broad grin.

"Great! You have your armour on already!" he said to Finland clearly in high spirits, and grabbed his arm. "Come on! Let's go teach those pirate scum we're not such an easy target!"

They reached the soldiers a few moments later. Most of the soldiers were already in the town, ready to protect it. The castle was situated on a small rocky island by the river mouth, acting as a guard for the city which lay further inland along the river. The castle was highly defendable, and the privateers knew it. They were no fools. They would not even try to attack the castle itself, but to head straight to the city.

Finland knew this. This is why he had ordered most of the troops to go to the city, and kept only a token force here to hassle the ships going past the castle as much as possible.

The commander in charge nodded at Finland and Tavastia when he noticed them. He was probably the only one who knew who and what they really were. Even so, the other soldiers must have at least sensed that they were somehow important. No one questioned their presence, nor made any remarks even though they must have seemed like a pair of children playing at war.

"The ships! The ships are here!" someone yelled then, and the courtyard bustled into action. Finland climbed on the wall to see better. The ships appeared from the mist quietly, like an armada of ghost ships. The sight was so eerie it made Finland shiver.

"How are they so quiet?" Tavastia asked, saying Finland's thoughts out loud. "The sea is as smooth as millpond, but I can't hear the usual rowing shouts…"

"They must have thought they could slip by undetected. This will be a nasty surprise for them then", Finland answered and dipped the tip of his arrow in a bucket of oil. He raised his bow, but did not draw it yet. The ships were still too far away. A quick glance at the castle walls told him that the soldiers were in position, waiting for a signal to fire.

The ships glided through the strait slowly and gracefully. The wait for them to come into the firing range seemed like an eternity to Finland. There were more ships than he had dared to hope, but thankfully much fewer than what he had feared.

_We can do this_ , Finland thought, _they will not ransack the city this time around_.

All of a sudden the ships sped up. Now they were close enough for Finland to see the men rowing and hear the noise they made. Now, now was the time. He quickly brought the oil-soaked tow – which was tied just below arrowhead – to the torch next to him. The tip of the arrow lit up instantly.

From the corner of his eye, he could see the other soldiers mirroring his move.

"Archers, ready your bows!"

Finland took a deep breath and drew his bow. He aimed carefully at the one of more distant ships. He was a great shot, having had centuries' worth of practise. He would let the others have the easier targets.

"Fire!"

Finland let his arrow fly. Dozens of arrows rained upon the ships, though most of them ended up in the sea. Finland's arrow found its target. A triumphant shout next to Finland told him that Tavastia had also hit the mark. But there was no time for congratulations or self-satisfaction for job well done. An order rang out again and they both picked up another arrow from the quivers.

Some of ships managed to go forth unscathed. But most of them were at least slowed down by fires they now had to put down. One of the ships caught fire so quickly the crew had to abandon it completely. They were almost completely out of arrows by the time the ships were out of their fire range.

The soldiers cheered in joy. They had done the first part of defence perfectly, and now it was the turn for the second part. The commander of the troops quickly ordered most of the soldiers in small boats waiting for them by the castle's pier. There were going to chase the enemy ships and attack them from behind.

Finland and Tavastia stayed behind, though. As archers, they were invaluable, but as foot soldiers, they were only going to stand in the way.

They remained on the wall, where they could at least see some of the battle.

"We did it. We actually did it", Tavastia said ecstatically. Finland grinned back. The battle was not yet won, but it was going very well for them.

"More ships!" a soldier yelled then.

Both Finland and Tavastia gasped, not believing their ears. More ships? And what's more important, _whose_ ships? They run to the tower as fast as they could, to see them themselves. The watchman was pale when they reached him and said nothing. He only held out the spyglass to them. Finland grabbed it and searched for the ships.

_Please be Sweden's, please be Sweden's_ , Finland chanted in his mind. But it was in avail. The insignia on the ships was clearly Danish. He swore and offered the spyglass for Tavastia, who likewise swore as soon as he had seen the same sight.

They were out of arrows, and these ships were clearly no privateers. They were the ships of Danish royal navy, and Sweden and Denmark had waged a constant and bitter war for years. They were utterly outnumbered.

"Go and raise the alarm and gather the rest of the soldiers! And tell somebody to saddle up a horse! I'm going to ride to the town and try to warn the soldiers there!" Finland ordered. The watchman hurried into action.

"Are you mad?" Tavastia shouted, eyes wide. "You can't reach them in time, not even on a horse, and even if you could, it wouldn't probably even make a difference!"

"Well, what options do we have left?" Finland yelled back. "I have to try something, or all is lost!"

Tavastia stared at Finland, seemingly loss at words. He was pale and clearly afraid, and he looked younger than he had looked in years.

"Fine. I'll come with you", he said at last.

"No" Finland whispered.

"What? You can't told me 'no'! I'm not yours to command and I'm not going to let you do this alone!"

Finland paused then. His heart swelled by the tender feelings roused by the passionate words of his brother. Why couldn't they exchange these views when there was no immediate danger lurking around? Why it was only the heat of the battle and the promise of a defeat that prompted any expression of familial feelings between them?

But this was neither the time nor place for these thoughts. Finland grasped Tavastia's shoulder and looked deep in to his eyes. There was no time to argue now. He could only hope his sincere words would be enough to make the other land see reason.

"Can't you see, Häme? One of use _has_ to stay here. Where do think they'll come next if the soldiers in the city fall? Here. That's why you have to stay and be ready for a siege!"

Tavastia was silent for awhile. Just as Finland was ready to shake some sense into him, Tavastia gave him a tight lipped nod. This was enough of a promise for Finland. Without further ado, he ran to the courtyard where a horse was waiting for him. With a command to open the gates, he mounted the horse and rode outside. The castle was connected to the mainland with a narrow bridge, and the road to the city was barely more than a footpath. Luckily the way was short.

By the time he reached the city, all the Danish ships had landed. The city was in chaos. Everywhere he looked he saw the Danes fighting… But then he realised that the Danes weren't fighting _his_ soldiers at all, they were fighting the _privateers_.

Finland couldn't resist the urge to rub his eyes, but even then he could barely believe what he was seeing. The Danish troops had indeed come to their aid against the privateers, despite being enemies of them both.

The shock of this discovery had not yet properly registered in his mind, when a sudden force threw him off the saddle. The impact with the ground expelled all the air from his lungs, leaving him gasping for breath.

Then everything went black.

* * *

_"_ _Get better. Open your eyes. Please… See me. Talk t'me. Don't leave me…"_

* * *

Finland didn't know how long it had been when he finally came to. He only knew that his head felt like someone had tried to use it as a poor substitute to a hammer. He tried to open his eyes, but even the dim light hurt them and almost made him throw up, so he decided against it. He was not only cold and wet, but he hurt all over.

He tried to move his arms and legs, but could not. They were tightly secured together, making him unable to move at all. Slowly, more carefully this time, he opened his eyes. He was in a cold, dark and damp cargo hold of a ship. Somewhere above him he could hear the shouts of the crew and the sounds of the sea.

Then Finland realised why he was so cold. Someone had stripped him off his chain shirt and his padded tunic, leaving him only in his thin linen shirt and trousers. Even his shoes were gone.

"Is anyone there!?" He shouted, and then winced when the shout made his already horrible throbbing headache much worse. No one answered him, in anyways, so he thought the best thing he could now do was to try to sleep some more – maybe there would be some answers waiting for him when he woke up again.

The second time he woke up someone was there with him. He could hear the lowly whispered Danish, though the person spoke it so quietly he could only catch a word or two here and there. He didn't see the speaker, though. The voice came from somewhere behind his back.

"W-where am I? P-please tell m-me", Finland whispered in Swedish. He was so cold his teeth were chattering uncontrollably.

The voices stopped, but no one answered him. They had probably been ordered to ignore him.

"I'm s-so cold. Can I get a b-blanket, please?" Finland pleaded in any case. He was shivering like mad.

But his pleads went unanswered. Finland only heard already faint footsteps grow fainter until he heard them no longer. With a sigh he reluctantly accepted his faith. No one cared about his well-being here, on this ship. He curled up as small as the restraints on his arms and legs would allow trying to keep himself at least little warm, and tried to fall asleep. What else was there left to do?

* * *

He dreamt of warmth, of being held like a precious child in the arms of someone who made him feel like he was safe and loved.

_"_ _Ya can do this. Get through this. Don't leave me here alone. Fight it, fight it. Live. I beg ya…"_

Finland woke up. In his befuddled state he tried to reach for someone he thought was there with him, but he couldn't move his arms at all. Then it hit him. He had been kidnapped and tied up, most likely by the Danes. Then he realised he was actually _warm_ this time. Someone had wrapped him up in a thick blanket while he had slept. They had also unbound his ankles, and left him a bucket in case he needed to use it. His wrist were still tightly secured behind his back and chained to a mast behind him, so he still couldn't move around much.

At last they seemed to care if he lived or died, even though they still didn't care much for his comfort. His tied up wrists _ached_. He tried to move them a little, to ease up the stiffness of his joints, but the restraints were too tight, and it didn't end up helping much.

He tried to relax, to make himself as comfortable as possible.

_That dream_ , Finland thought _. I had it again._

This was not the first time he had dreamt about the vague, urgent pleads and the tender embrace. He didn't usually dwell on it, though. In fact, it was more common for him to push all thoughts about the dream out of his mind. But now, tied up in a cargo hold of a Danish ship, he had nothing to distract him from these thoughts.

It was always the same thing: gentle words, urgent whispers, cool and hesitant touches. Warmth like he had never experienced cocooning him, making him feel safe and protected. Familiar smell, a bit salty and fresh like the sea, but at the same time earthy and comforting like the never ending forests of his land.

But beyond this circle of comfort was something else – something sinister and unforgiving. An empty void, full of pain and darkness, ready to devour him. If someone had asked him if it was a pleasant dream or a nightmare he was dreaming about every other night, he honestly would have not known the answer. It was both – and yet, it was not truly either.

The dream had been his constant companion ever since the plague – or The Black Death, like it was called in the mainland Europe. A fitting name, considering all the destruction the plague left in its wake. But the aftermath was all Finland could really remember. His memories of that time were vague and hazy at best, nonexistent at worst. He remembered people getting sick, and then hungry and desperate. Tavastia had left then, to take care of his own people.

Finland had been home alone when his own temperature had gone up and his lymph nodes had swelled. But unlike the other poor souls that got the plague, his affliction had not been short and deadly, no. He had lied on his bed, delirious and on the brink of death, but unable to die. He had wished that he could, though - anything to end the torment.

Then one morning Finland had woken up to Sweden looming over him – who had also looked quite famished and sick – wondering when the other nation had arrived there in his tiny hut, and why it was clearly summer outside when it had been fall when he had fallen ill.

As horrible as it must have been to him – to witness all the people dying, to _feel_ the sickness and the actions it drove the people to commit, Sweden had later said they had actually been rather fortunate in their fate. Their lands might have been damaged by the plague, but they had not been crippled by it.

And the dream had been his constant companion ever since. Finland wasn't sure if the dreams were full of memories he had repressed – or just something his mind had conjured up in his delirious state. He didn't know and he wasn't about to ask Sweden. He had wanted to forget the plague had ever existed.

_Sweden_. Why did Finland's thoughts always ended up to be about him? As always, just a thought of the tall neighbouring land managed to raise a ton of constantly battling emotions inside Finland's chest.

Sweden, who had been there for him after the plague, and helped him to get back on his feet despite being merely a convalescent himself at the time?

Sweden, who had granted him and Tavastia – and their people – the right to gather at the stones of Mora to elect the new king to consolidate their status as integrated parts of Swedish realm.

Sweden, who had then unabashedly told them who to vote.

Sweden, who had insisted on backing a German prince as his new king, and thus causing this violent power struggle in the Baltic Sea. Finland didn't understand why Sweden had thrown his lot with the Hanseatic League. Finland had heard him complain about the Germans for more times than he cared to count, and the trade they controlled. Yet when Denmark had started to openly oppose the confederation of merchant guilds and trade cities, Sweden had not hesitated at all to ally himself with them. 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend' and all that. He seemed willing to do anything to gain an upper hand against Denmark.

And now, by the look of it, he had gambled it all, and lost. And who was there to pay the price? As always, that part seemed to fall onto everyone but the tall nation himself.

And now, Finland was most likely a Danish property, transported in a cargo hold like sack of potatoes to his new master. Finland wasn't sure how long he had been on the ship, since he had been unconscious for most of the journey thus far. But he knew he was a long way from home. He could still faintly sense his land, but the feeling was muted and distant, and it grew fainter by every hour.

Would he ever see his shores again?

"This is all Sweden's fault", he heatedly whispered to the empty cargo hold, furiously blinking back tears. But they weren't angry tears that threatened to spill, no matter how enraged he was, no matter how much he wanted to put all blame on the other nation. The very thought of being parted from Sweden was enough to make his chest feel heavy and his heart hollow.

_Please, don't leave m'here alone! I beg ya, fight it…_

"Shut up, shut up, _shut up_!" he gasped, and cursed again at his bound wrists when all he wanted to do was to press his hands on his ears and scream, like he could physically block out the remnant thoughts of his dream.

The tears left hot, wet trails down his cheeks, and he couldn't even swipe them away. It wasn't fair. Why did it _hurt_ this much, when it was apparent his fate did not faze Sweden half as much…

Finland sighed and burrowed deeper into the warmth of the blanket. Perhaps he couldn't block his thoughts, but there was no reason to at least try to make himself physically as comfortable as possible. After all, there was nothing to do but to lay there – only misery as his company – and wait for the torturous journey to end ... and his new life to begin.

* * *

Finland couldn't tell how long for he had been held in that cargo hold. It probably was a matter of days, but for him it had felt like weeks. So when he at last heard the telling sounds of the crew, and little later the sounds of harbour and the city, he could have wept of joy. At last this awful journey was at its end. He was so anxious to get out of the dark and damp cargo hold that for a moment he could not recall all the worries that had plagued him constantly throughout the sea voyage.

He listened at the sounds of the hustle and the bustle of the ship and the city for awhile until the latch opened and he heard steps approach. A young man in his teens came into a view. Finland instantly recognized him, even though he had only seen the other person from the distance in the past. But Denmark's wild mess of hair and his wide, toothy grin hadn't changed much and was easy to remember. The other nation seemed a bit taken back after seeing Finland, but only for a moment.

"Welcome to Denmark!" the tall nation exclaimed, waving his showy hat and bowing so deep Finland thought that it simply wasn't possible for a supposedly polite gesture to look more mocking.

"C-could you untie me, now?" Finland answered the greeting meekly, ready to do anything to get his arms finally free.

But Denmark's grin only widened.

"Of course I _could_ ", he said, but didn't move a muscle, "but I won't. Not until we have a little chat."

He then kicked the empty bucket upside down and unceremoniously sat on it, leaning forward and fixing his stare on Finland.

"We're going to have little trip to visit the queen and I want you to behave like grateful little lands should. So when I point you to stand somewhere, I'll expect you to stand there, still and quiet. You think you can do that?"

Finland just nodded, too afraid to say anything out loud.

"Great!" Denmark exclaimed enthusiastically and leant in to unbind Finland's wrists.

Finland let out a little involuntary moan when he finally felt his arms go free. He brought his hands in front to rub them and bring back the feeling when the actual sight of them made him pause in aghast. The shackles had left deep gashes on his wrists and his hands were covered in dried blood. But the most disturbing sight was the skin. The skin on his hands was abnormally white and the tips of his fingers were bluish black and swollen. He couldn't move his fingers.

Horrified at the sight, Finland at first stared at his palms and then turned his head up to see his shocked expression mirrored on Denmark's face. A short silence ensued.

"They will heal" Denmark said lamely after awhile.

Finland only nodded, even if he did not feel as confident about it.

"Can you stand?" Denmark continued, and moved closer to help the smaller land up.

Finland's legs felt unsteady and wobbly after the unusual bout of inactivity, but with the help he managed to not only to stand, but also to climb up the stairs to the deck. The brightness of the sun felt blinding after being confined to darkness for so long, and he moved his useless, flaccid hand to cover his eyes.

Denmark grabbed his arm then, and dragged him from the ship to the carriages waiting on the pier. They didn't speak at all during the journey, but Finland didn't mind it at all. He rather liked to see the sights of the city, helping him forget the appalling condition of his ruined hands and the awfulness of his general situation for a second.

But then the carriages arrived at the royal palace, and Finland was once again dragged along. They arrived at the narrow hall that was already filled with people in uniforms waiting for something before shut doors.

"Wait. What's going on?" Finland asked Denmark. He didn't understand what was happening. All the eyes were on him. Suddenly Finland was feeling very self-conscious about his ragged appearance and his tattered clothes that seemed to be caked with layers of dried blood.

"We're having a small victory parade now that the _guest of honour_ has arrived" Denmark answered and motioned to the servants stationed by the door. A moment later the massive doors opened and a loud fanfare boomed in the halls, startling Finland. Denmark grabbed Finland by the arm, and ushered him inside before the soldiers.

It was almost blinding to see all the brightly coloured fabrics and the shiny jewelleries on display. The large room itself did not pale in comparison, with its rich dark floors and beautiful murals. Finland certainly had not seen anything like it, not even when he had travelled to Sweden with his people to cast their votes. The hall was like a golden cage, and the court members like a flock of colourful birds of paradise.

But those beautifully dressed people looked at him down on their noses, with a look of disdain mixed with pity, and Finland could not bear to see it anymore. He cast down his gaze, preferring to stare at his own shuffling muddy bare feet.

But when Denmark brought their approach at halt and the music stopped, Finland forced himself to lift his head again. The queen sat on her throne before them, looking every bit as haughty and regal as queens should. Finland's gaze then fell on a few people standing a couple of steps away from the throne. What he saw made him feel like his blood had instantly turned ice cold in his veins.

Sweden stood there, looking back at Finland with a horror-struck expression on his face. Finland felt so faint on his feet he was almost grateful when Denmark pushed him down onto his knees before the queen. Denmark also bowed very low, but this time around it did not look at all like his earlier mockery.

Finland did not understand _why_ Sweden was there, standing among his sworn enemies they both had constantly fought against the last decade or so. Was he a prisoner too?

"So this is the land We saved from the clutches of those filthy pirates?" The queen said, interrupting his thoughts. Her gaze was heavy with appraise and judgment. A slight frown told on her face told Finland that he had been found lacking.

"This is him, Your Majesty. Finland and the rest of Österland have been freed from the Victual Brothers by our navy" Denmark answered his queen.

The queen nodded solemnly, and turned her attention to Sweden, whose gaze still fell heavily on kneeling Finland.

"Does the news please you, Sweden?"

Sweden seemed to be startled out of his reverie after hearing his own name spoken aloud, but swiftly managed to find his lost footing again. He turned to look at the queen and bowed stiffly.

"It does, Yer Majesty. Thank ya", Sweden answered. His words were polite, but Finland could easily hear the tenseness of his tone. It was as if it pained Sweden to say these words out loud.

But the queen was none the wiser, or simply did not care. She made a slight nod to acknowledge his answer.

"Then let it be known throughout the realm that the Eastern part of Sweden was liberated from the Victual Brothers as was the prerequisite for Swedish realm to join this blessed union."

Sweden gave a slight dismissive bow again, and then approached still kneeling Finland. He offered his hand to the smaller land, and without thinking, Finland tried to grasp the offered hand with his own. But the back-and-blue appendage still did not work as intended, and his hand simply flopped pitifully against the palm of Sweden's hand.

Finland flushed, feeling oddly ashamed. But before he managed to withdraw his hand, Sweden trapped it between his own hands, and slowly turned it around on his palm.

Both pair of eyes were fixed on the maimed limb, deathly white in contrast even to Sweden's pale skin. Finland risked a glance up to see his reaction. Sweden's face was frozen, appearing almost… lifeless, void of any expression. But his dark, stormy eyes betrayed his emotions.

Finland knew that this was how Sweden looked when he had gone beyond the simple feeling of anger.

This was the face that promised a world of _pain_.

Then, without any warning – but still very carefully – Sweden hoisted the smaller land in his arms. Finland yelped. It was not the first time Sweden had done something like this, but this certainly was the first time he had done this in front of an _audience_. Finland didn't know if he should feel thankful for the help, or utterly mortified to be carried around like a child – or worse, like a _bride_ – in front of the court. But as exhausted as he was, unable to put out any fight, Finland simply decided to go with it. He wrapped his arms around Sweden's neck, hiding his flushed face effectively in the crook of the taller nation's neck.

Sweden quickly carried him out of sight of the prying eyes.

The castle was like a maze. Finland did not even try to keep score of all the corridors and halls they crossed, trusting Sweden to know his way around this grand palace.

"Sve? Why were you here?" Finland whispered against Sweden's neck. His tiny murmur had been barely audible, but its affect was instant and obvious, none of the less. Finland felt the other nation go rigid under him, and his grip tightened. Sweden stopped.

"We're here", he answered instead, and gently lifted Finland on to the ground. They stood before a wooden door.

Sweden fumbled with a key and a lock for moment before he managed to open the door and usher Finland inside.

The room wasn't as nearly as grand as the throne room had been, but it was still loads of better than Finland was used to. The centre piece of the room was a big bed that looked very inviting to Finland at the moment. He took a few hesitant steps towards the warm-looking thick pillows and duvets, when Sweden stopped him. Finland looked at him in wonder.

"There's a bath for you. Behind the screen", Sweden said, and nudged him to the right direction.

A simple wooden washtub waited for him behind the flimsy wooden screen. The water was still warm, and even though Finland was dead tired, he now wanted more than anything to wash away all the gore and grime marring his skin. He went enthusiastically to remove his disgusting clothes, but was yet again very quickly reminded about the state of his useless hands. He managed to wiggle himself out of his pants, but his flimsy linen shirt approved to be too much of a trouble.

"Sve?" Finland called, already bright red and mortified about what he was about to ask.

"Hmmm?" Sweden acknowledged.

"Can you come here and help me?"

A silence answered his plea. For a small terrible moment Finland thought Sweden had left the room. It was awful enough that he was unable to undress and wash himself, but what would he do if Sweden wouldn't help?

But his fears proved to be false, as Sweden soon appeared next to him, clearly embarrassed and red in face, but still looking like he was incapable of deciding if he should try to look more eager or hesitant.

Finland did not dare to look him into his eyes, gesturing around his own chest.

"My hands… I can't get my shirt off… I don't think I can even hold a soap…" Finland said, and to his own horror, his voice almost choked and tears rose into his eyes. He furiously blinked them away. It was humiliating enough for the smaller land to be this helpless without him starting to bawl his eyes out.

But Sweden thankfully did not say anything. He grasped the hem of Finland's shirt and yanked it over his head. Finland did not waste any time to get into the washtub. But as much as he tried, he couldn't hold the soap with his ruined hands. Thankfully Sweden saw this too, and kneeled next to the washtub to help Finland to bathe. Finland was red as a beetroot and felt utterly humiliated, but also so very grateful of Sweden's no-nonsense manner and his brisk scrub.

Sweden's touch on his skin was hurried but firm, almost clinical in nature. So when those same hands started to rub soap on his head and run fingers through his hair, the sudden tenderness of the touch almost made Finland jump out of surprise. No matter how vehemently Finland told himself that the other nation was only being extra careful in his ministrations only because he had seen the dried up blood on the side of Finland's head, he couldn't quite suppress the pleasant shivers conjured by Sweden's fingers when the taller nation gently massaged some soap on Finland's scalp.

When Sweden finally moved away to pour some water on him to rinse out the rest of the soap, Finland had to clamp his mouth shut hard to not to let out a disappointed sigh. Soon after Sweden helped him out the tub – the water had turned almost black, Finland noticed – and wrapped him in linens to let him dry. Finland sneaked a glance at the other nation then – Sweden was still flushed in face, but his gaze was fiercely fixed on the ceiling, doing his very best not ogle. Finland couldn't help but smile and feel a bit better about the whole ordeal.

Finland headed for the bed almost immediately after Sweden had helped him in his nightshirt. He had spent all his already scarce energy for the bathing, and he honestly had barely enough left for the few steps it took to cross the room and climb under the fluffy duvets.

This time Finland didn't even try to hold back his content sigh. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

* * *

Finland woke up to a brightly lit room, illuminated by the brilliant morning sun. He rubbed his eyes to banish the grogginess of the long sleep, but to a little affect.

It was then that he realised Sweden wasn't in the room. He even got out of the bed to double check what was kind of obvious since there was nothing in the room where a man of Sweden's size could hide now that someone had taken the wooden screen away.

Finland sat on the bed. He felt a bit… abandoned. Sweden had left him here all alone, when he had no idea yet _why_ he had even been brought here, in this grand, but vaguely hostile palace.

A loud grumble of his stomach brought his thoughts to a halt, reminding him that he had not eaten in what must be days. He glanced around the room again, this time in search of some nourishment, but as before, his search came up empty.

His stomach grumbled again. His body had clearly decided that now that he had had some rest, it was time for food.

There was no choice. Finland had to venture outside.

He found some clothes from a heavy trunk lying on the base of the bed. Finland was sure they were Sweden's clothes –most of them were much too big for him. But he didn't have much choice – he wasn't about to leave these rooms dressed only in some flimsy nightshirt! He found trousers that kind of fit him and even a pair of simple leather slippers in the trunk. Even the smallest shirt still reached his knees, but it could not be helped – beggars can't be choosers, as the saying goes.

Finland walked up to the door and tried the handle. It was not locked. A sigh he had not realised he had held escaped in relief. His hands still didn't work as they should, not enough to try to pick a lock, even if he knew how, in any case. Briskly, before he had time to talk himself out of what he was about to do, he opened the door and peaked outside. The corridor was empty, and seemed dark and uninviting compared to the bright room he was about leave behind.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped outside. He followed the corridor until he reached a staircase, and then opted to go down the stairs, thinking that was the more obvious location for the kitchen. He then crossed a hall and followed another corridor until he started to feel quite lost. He had not seen anybody here, in this odd little castle. Where were the servants, all the members of the court he had seen just yesterday?

Then he heard a faint noise, like a child's distant laughter, and decided to try to follow the sound. When Finland reached the source of the sound, he greeted with a sight so odd yet so comforting he thought for a moment he might still be dreaming.

Denmark – the very same Denmark who had barely a day ago been mean and cruel to him – was sitting before a plentiful breakfast table in a cosy rustic kitchen, flicking peas with his spoon towards a child on the other side of the table. The little child with an ash blond hair squealed in delight as he tried to catch the peas with his mouth, with most of them ending up on the floor.

"That's enough of that", a haughty voice said, and Finland realised there was another person in the room. He too had a blond hair, but his reminded Finland of the colour of straw. His face was impassive, but Finland had been around with Sweden long enough to recognise the subtle signs of amusement in eyes of this stranger, despite his tone of voice. Finland knew instantly who this land was. He had never personally met Norway before, but he had heard of him.

Denmark laughed and shook his head.

"Look at him, Norge! He loves this!" He said as he flicked another pea at the child, who missed it again, but laughed all the same.

Norway frowned.

"Yes, it's clearly very amusing not only to waste food, but also to teach bad table manners to toddlers. Stop it! And Island!" here he turned to look at the small child, though his tone became gentler. "Sit down and eat your breakfast."

Denmark let out a long, theatrical sigh and started to eat again. Norway watched him, somehow managing to look both pleased and annoyed at the same time. Then he glanced at the door, straight at Finland.

"Who are you?" he asked, not kindly. Suddenly Finland felt very self-conscious about his overly large clothes.

Denmark raised his eyes from his breakfast, too. But unlike Norway, his face melted into a large smile. It terrified Finland way more than Norway's glare did.

"Ahh, that's Finland. You were there yesterday. Though he does look a bit different now that he's clean", he said to Norway, who grimaced, but this time his attention was on Denmark.

"Don't talk with your mouth full. That's disgusting."

Denmark only smiled at Norway, ignoring his quip. He motioned Finland to come closer, and after a brief hesitation, Finland did just that, closing the door behind him.

"Come on, you must be hungry. Sit down, eat. Have you met Norge?" Here he pointed at the blond boy at the end of the table, who simply stared back. "And that little rascal is Island. Island say 'hello'!"

But Iceland simply scooted closer to Norway, suddenly shy.

Finland managed to say a meek 'hi' to the boy, and sat down on the other end of the bench Iceland was already sitting on, leaving plenty of room between them. A big bowl of porridge looked very good, but thinking that it might be difficult – or out-right impossible for him to try to eat anything with a spoon in his state – he opted for some bread and cheese he managed to hold between his palms.

As simple as it was, it tasted like heaven to Finland. He gulped down his food like a ravenous beast.

"Why don't you use your hands? Don't know how?" Iceland asked, with all the tact and childish wonder his young age allocated him.

Finland froze, risking a glance at Denmark, who in turn refused to look at him back. But he did look a bit troubled.

"I- I hurt them. I can't move my fingers…" Finland said, now turning his attention at the earnest looking child. Then he forced a smile on his face and added, more to Iceland's benefit than to his own: "But they'll heal. I just have to wait."

Iceland nodded, turning back to his breakfast.

_BANG!_

Suddenly the door barged open, banging loudly against the stone wall and making everybody jump in surprise. Sweden stood in the doorway, his eyes wild and his mouth wipe open in starting to say something – only to the sound dying out as soon as he realised Finland was in the room. He snapped his mouth shut.

" _Før helvede, Sverige_! Please do that again, I didn't quite manage to get a heart attack yet!" Denmark cried aloud.

Sweden's expression darkened right away. He muttered something under his breath that might have been: 'I wish ya did', but Finland wasn't sure if he heard him right. Then Finland noticed his black eye. When had he gotten that? He was sure Sweden didn't have it yesterday.

But he decided it wasn't what mattered now, and pushed it from his mind in favour of nibbling his bread.

Sweden hesitantly stepped into the room. After a second or two of staring at Finland, he sat next to him, making him scoot closer to Iceland.

"Are you alright?" Sweden whispered to him.

Finland didn't know if 'alright' was a correct word to use to describe anything that had happened to him in days, but he held his tongue and forced yet another smile on his face, and nodded.

Sweden didn't look convinced, but thankfully he didn't argue. He, too, started to eat, all while glaring at Denmark. Now Finland realised his glare started to look self-satisfied, and he also glanced at the other side of the table to see what prompted such a gratified look to grow on Sweden's face.

At first, Finland didn't notice anything weird. But when he carefully traced where Sweden had pointed his gaze, he realised how slowly and carefully Denmark was eating, favouring his right cheek. And when Denmark noticed Sweden's glare and turned his face to smirk back at him Finland saw it – a large purple bruise on the left side of his jaw.

It did not take Finland long to put two and two together. Sweden's black eye, Denmark's bruised jaw. They had been fighting, sometime during Finland's long sleep. And judging by their behaviour now, whatever the issue had been about, it had not been solved.

Finland sighed, his appetite now long gone. Just what sort of mad people had he unwittingly stumbled upon?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some quick notes (because I don't think these events are common knowledge even in Nordic countries): Finns got the right to vote for the Swedish King in 1362. German duke Albrekt of Mecklenburg is elected as Swedish king in 1364. Swedish Realm falls in turmoil. In 1388 Swedes elect Margaret I, the queen of Norway and queen regnant of Denmark as their ruler. Albrekt controls Stockholm. Victual Brothers are paid to smuggle food to Stockholm during its siege. In 1389 Albrekt is captured, but Stockholm still resist. Victual Brothers (Danish privateers now turned pirates) raid all over Baltic Sea, but especially in Finland, even controlling parts of it. In 1395 Albrekt is released "on bail", the bail being Stockholm, which is given to Hanseatic League. Kalmar Union (1397-1521) is formed. In 1398 Albrekt fails to pay his dues, Hanseatic League releases Stockholm to the queen of the Kalmar Union, Kalmar Union deals with Victual Brothers.


	10. From Bad to Worse

Finland very quickly came to realise who exactly was the person holding all the power and who was in charge of making even the most miniscule of decisions in this union of theirs. The fact that Denmark was able to command the other northern countries despite them being in a supposedly equal personal union seemed to tax Norway and Sweden a great deal, often leading to endless arguments between the three nations.

But their petty squabbles rarely interested Finland who was far keener on keeping himself out of any trouble imaginable. His situation was already tenuous, being kind of an outsider in this tightly knit group. He knew the others felt the same. Norway, Iceland, Denmark and Sweden were family, even if they couldn't stand each other most of the time. Finland, on the other hand, was clearly different. And being an underling of Sweden did not help, since the tall nation insisted on challenging their self-appointed leader in every little detail.

Finland understood Sweden wasn't happy about his situation, about being bossed around by his former enemy. But what Finland did not understand was why Sweden had to go well out of his way to antagonise Denmark when he had been the one who had agreed to join the union in the first place. It was becoming an almost weekly occurrence that when the words failed Sweden during their never ending arguments with Denmark, it more often than not led to fist fights, even to out-right bloodshed between the two nations.

In those moments, Norway – who was still weak from the plague that had almost decimated his land decades ago – quickly grabbed Iceland and fled the scene, as did Finland. Together they tried to shield the youngest of the nations from seeing or even hearing the often frightening confrontations between the other two warring lands. Finland and Norway might have not had much in common, but during these moments they formed an understanding, bonding over their disdain for the two idiots who couldn't resolve any matter without resorting to mindless violence.

And if Sweden was guilty of deliberately antagonising Denmark for quarrelling about every single one of the other nation's commands, the Dane was arguably doubly so for denying even the simplest of requests Sweden made. The first had been Sweden's request of sharing room with Finland, which Denmark had denied with an infuriating smirk on his face. Then the Dane had given Finland a room as far from Sweden's chambers as possible, just out of spite.

Finland had not exactly minded. Now that his hands were fully healed he didn't need help with everyday tasks anymore. His new room might have been very small, but it was cosy, not to mention all his – and they were close to Iceland's and Norway's rooms, which he liked.

But Finland often wondered why on earth Sweden did not seem to notice the dark glint that rose in Denmark's eyes whenever the two nations quarrelled. It was an ugly sight, the cocksure smirk and the dark pleasure in his eyes while he egged Sweden on with hurtful but oh, so observant jabs of his sharp tongue that drove the other nation to utter madness, making their often petty disputes impossible to solve with mere words.

At least Denmark never hurt Finland – at least, not directly. But sometimes Finland woke up burning hot, with an awful headache and pains in his joints, and he could never be sure if it was a simple flu… or the after effects of something more sinister he was feeling. Being here, so far from his home, had diminished his connection to his land – but it had not been severed. The uncertainty and the lack of news about what was happening back home was slowly but surely making him a nerve wreck.

Finland knew Denmark wasn't a bad person, not really. There was certain gentleness about him whenever he was in contact with Iceland and Norway, and with time, that behaviour came to include even Finland. Denmark liked to call him 'kiddo' and to ruffle up his hair – when he was in a good mood, that is.

But those moments only came to be when Sweden had to travel to relate the commands of their common ruler. And similar tranquil moments also happened the few rare occasions Denmark had to do the same. The lives of Norway, Iceland and Finland were pleasant enough when they had to deal with only one of the slightly older Nordic nations, but when they were all together they were all walking on eggshells, waiting for the inevitable to happen… The moment when everything would come crashing down.

* * *

Finland stacked some basic – and easy to carry – food in the basket, grabbing a tankard of beer on the way out of the kitchen. He was going to take the basket to Sweden, who had been working since the morning, missing not only the lunch but also the dinner.

Sweden worked as Denmark's secretary and accountant in charge of all the paperwork. In these moments Finland was grateful the only thing he was in charge of was just some menial chores. He didn't know if Denmark had meant it to be an insult when the other nation had ordered him to do the household tasks, and frankly he didn't exactly care. It perhaps wasn't very clamorous job, but on the other hand it was very difficult to fail in sweeping the floors.

Finland shook his head to lose these thoughts, and walked to the chamber where he knew Sweden was working in and silently slipped in, not wanting to distract the other nation.

Sweden sat in front of a massive hardwood desk, bent over of a deck of important looking papers and volumes of thick books, writing like mad and sometimes pausing to rub the bridge of his nose. This got Finland's attention.

"When did you get those?" he asked, pointing at the pair of glasses perched on Sweden's nose.

Sweden flinched and turned to look at Finland, and then seemed to relax when he realised who exactly was in the room with him. He did remove the glasses, though, as if he was a bit embarrassed to be seen wearing them.

"Danmark bought them, few years ago. Said I was useless with m'bad eyes. These fixed them" Sweden said, sounding oddly timid, hiding the glasses in his sleeve.

"Oh" Finland said, not understanding why the taller nation had hid the fact that he needed to wear glasses before this, "well, put them on then! I want to see how you look!"

Sweden seemed a bit reluctant to do so, but after a while he did as Finland had asked. They were a simple pair of lenses held together by iron wire, perched on his nose. Suddenly Finland realised why Sweden's gaze had always been so harsh, making him feel like he was being stripped bare by the pale pair of eyes whenever he was the object of their scrutiny.

_All this time, he had simply been squinting at me while I assumed the worst_ , Finland thought. Now that he thought about it more, it seemed so obvious, so simple. Why had he not realised it before?

"I like them" Finland said and smiled. "You should wear them more often, especially if they help you see better."

Sweden blushed and didn't say anything. But he also did not remove the eyeglasses he had only moments ago tried his very best to hide.

"I bought you some food" Finland said then and lifted the basket on Sweden's lap.

"Thanks" Sweden simply said, but did not stop working. He quickly turned his attention back to his books and papers while nibbling a piece of bread with his free hand.

Finland leant closer to inspect the papers. Most of them looked to be accounting books, lists of taxes, some calculations or correspondence. Finland watched as Sweden read on endless-looking lists of the expenditures and revenues, neatly copying the sum of numbers in the biggest book right in front of him.

"You can't take a break? I brought beer too" Finland said brightly and waved the tankard around like it would help Sweden make up his mind.

But although Sweden did glance at the tankard with an almost wistful look on his face, in the end he merely shook his head.

"Oh" Finland inhaled in surprise. He thought it was so unfair that the others had hardly any responsibilities, while Sweden couldn't even find time to eat. "Do you still have lots to do? Can I wait here while you work? I mean, I can go, too, if you wish…"

"Ya can stay if ya want, I'm almost done" Sweden replied, but his attention never wavered from the books. Not until his quill broke, that is, and with a sigh he rummaged through the papers on the desk until he pulled a long, gilded dagger from the pile and started sharpening the quill again.

"That's a big pen knife!" Finland exclaimed in surprise. It looked nothing like the knives he was used to. The blade looked needlessly long, more like a dagger than a practical tool for carving pen nibs.

"It's Danmark's" Sweden simply said without even looking at him, like it was enough of an explanation. And truly – it was. Finland nodded and decided to let him work in peace.

Finland sat on the floor, and tried make himself comfortable. There wasn't much to look at in the small chamber stacked with paper and tax books, so Finland watched Sweden work. It was kind of fascinating, to see the absolute concentration clinging to his young but severe face. Small scraping noises of the quill were the only noise that broke the silence. Despite his best efforts, Finland felt his eyes started to droop and it became very hard to try to stifle his yawns. He must have dowsed off, because when he came to, he realised Sweden wasn't the only other person in the room anymore.

"This can't be right!" Denmark exclaimed. He sounded both frustrated and troubled at the same time.

"It's right. I checked it m'self. Twice" Sweden answered. He clearly tried to sound nonchalant, but some amount of irritation was seeping through.

Denmark was silent for quite some time. Finland opened his eyes slightly, to see what the other nation was doing. Denmark stood next to Sweden, roughly turning pages of the book Sweden had previously worked on. With every page he turned, his face turned more and more sour. When got to the end, he scowled.

"So we don't have the funds" Denmark said. His voice was steady but ice cold.

Sweden stayed silent.

"You'll have to raise taxes in your kingdom, then" Denmark said almost dismissively.

"No."

"What?" Denmark asked and his voice still was frighteningly even.

Finland started to fidget. He wanted to escape the situation, but at the same time he was afraid of drawing attention to himself.

"Ya heard me. I won't raise taxes. M'people won't fund yer pointless wars with the German duchies anymore" Sweden informed Denmark. Finland couldn't help but admire his courage, even if he thought it was a bit fool-hardy thing to say.

Denmark didn't answer right away. For a brief moment it seemed like he, too, couldn't make up his mind how exactly he should react. But then he stepped closer to Sweden, slowly, like an overgrown lazy cat, with a frighteningly wide smirk on his face. Sweden stiffened in response, waiting for a blow.

But no strike came. Denmark only leant closer, and whispered something in his ear. Finland didn't hear what it was, but what ever it had been, Sweden instantly turned to look at Finland with wide eyes. Finland's breath hitched. Sweden looked unhinged, almost… afraid. They stared at each other for perhaps a second or two before Sweden tore his gaze away from Finland, turning his whole attention back to the smirking nation.

There was a frighteningly intense look in Sweden's pale eyes. He looked absolutely murderous. Finland realised that the eyeglasses did not do much to soften the gaze of the other nation when he truly was on the verge of giving into absolute rage.

"Ya wouldn't" Sweden whispered, voice dreadfully soft.

"Are you willing to bet on that?" Denmark said to him, turned around, looking now straight at Finland. He took step closer, his stare fixed on the smaller land sitting on the floor.

"Are you willing to bet it on him, Sverige? Because a few more taxes won't feel all that bad when you weight them against – "

Everything happened so quickly then. Sweden rushed closer until he stood right by Denmark's back, and Denmark stumbled and fell silent, his smirk slowly changing into confusion. He frowned, like he didn't quite understand what had just happened and turned around to face Sweden again.

Finland gasped. The beautiful golden handle of the pen knife was lodged in Denmark's neck, glinting in the candle light and standing bright amongst the ever growing dark stain. Denmark opened his mouth, but instead of words, he only spewed blood.

Finland watched in horror as the tall nation fell on his knees and clasped at his throat, but in vain. He only coughed up more blood. He fell on ground, still choking and gurgling, desperately clawing at his throat.

Then even the gurgling stopped and a horrible silence ensued.

Finland stared at the sight in shock. The puddle of blood was slowly growing larger, and Denmark lay in the middle of it, face down, silent and still. Everything had happened so fast Finland had trouble understanding it had happened at all.

Finland tore his eyes from the sight, not wanting to look at poor Denmark anymore and instead focused on Sweden. Sweden was deathly pale, standing still and staring at the body with wide eyes.

"What did you do?" Finland whispered softly, but his words sounded loud and harsh in the heavy silence. Sweden flinched and turned his piercing gaze to him. At least the words had brought Sweden out of his shock.

"I… I couldn't take it anymore... Ya know he asked too much" Sweden said, stumbling in his words. "He – he threatened ya. Ya heard him. He was gonna – "

"No, Sve, stop!" Finland cried out, not wanting hear he had been the reason for all this.

Sweden snapped his mouth shut.

"What are we going to do, Sve?"

But Finland saw Sweden was already thinking hard, his expression dark and turbulent but focused.

Finland decided to ignore him for the time being. There was something else much more important to be done. Denmark couldn't heal properly as long as he still had a knife in his neck. Finland stepped closer to the body, carefully staying on clean tiles and avoiding the blood. It truly was a gory sight.

Finland felt bile burning in the back of his throat. Not wanting to spend more time squawking here than necessary, he grabbed the hilt and pulled. The blade dislodged easily enough, but he had used too much force. With the knife came also a fresh batch of blood, splattering all over him and almost making him throw up. He recoiled from the scene and dropped the knife as if it burned him.

"Fin."

"What?" Finland frowned, still trying to get over his bout of nausea.

"I need t'leave" Sweden said, sounding resolute.

"What? You can't! You – "

"Listen!" Sweden said and captured Finland's face in his hands. "Fin, please, listen. I'm gonna find a way for us to be free again, I promise. But it's safer for ya here."

"But if you're gone when he wakes up and I'm still here –"

"No!" Sweden almost growled. "That's not gonna happen! I know him. He won't hurt ya for this, not when yer still part of his union… Trust me. Trust me, please?"

Finland was silent for a while, his eyes locked with Sweden, who looked back calmly and so sure of his words. Finland nodded.

Sweden smiled, and despite everything, the smile sent an odd little shiver running down Finland's back.

"I'll come back for ya, I promise" Sweden vowed and gently brushed his lips on the other land's forehead. Then he let go of Finland, and left.

Finland was left standing there, little dazed and still covered in blood splatters, not at all sure if he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

* * *

Finland had gone to Norway to get help that night, and together the two nations had carried Denmark back to his rooms, changed his clothes and washed away the blood.

Norway had not been pleased about the turn of events, not at all. In fact, he had cursed both Sweden and Denmark with such a litany of swearwords that Finland had turned bright red and even learnt a few new ones.

But when Norway had seen the pitiful state of Denmark, his mask had slipped, and for a moment he had looked just as lost as Finland felt, and his eyes had shone with suspicious brightness. But that moment had been a short one, for his expression had quickly hardened, and both of them had started to work.

It had been Finland who had returned to the small study and cleaned all the evidence from the room, mopped up all the blood and wiped every surface. There had been drops of blood on some of the papers, but that couldn't be helped.

The sun had been up for hours when he at last crawled back to his room, feeling utterly exhausted and wanting nothing more than to forget this god awful night had ever even happened.

It took him almost two days to find the courage to re-emerge. Although in truth his decision of to stop hiding from the world had less to do with the courage than it had with hunger.

His trek to the kitchens was swift as ever, even if this time it felt like he reached the familiar door all too quickly. Taking a deep breath, Finland pushed all doubts from his mind and stepped inside.

Although Finland had braced himself, the sight of Denmark eating breakfast like nothing had happened still made him flinch hard. But Denmark didn't notice. In fact he didn't lift his head at all, his eyes concentrating on his porridge bowl with a frown. Norway and Iceland turned to look at him, briefly, though the latter also soon turned back to his breakfast.

"I…" Finland started to say, finding this heavy silence unbearable, but fell silent when Norway glared at him. If looks could kill he would have dropped dead right then and there. The other nation looked at Finland and then at Denmark with such an obviously warning way, it would have been impossible to not get the meaning.

Finland quickly scrambled to sit down on the other side of Iceland, and kept his mouth shut.

Denmark never once lifted his gaze.

* * *

It was not just that morning that felt oppressive. It soon became apparent that the ambience of the Nordic household had changed for worse, and that change was not about to go away. Denmark, the formerly loud and brash nation had turned sour and subdued, avoiding the other people and preferring to keep to himself. Finland, too, avoided Denmark, even if he no longer feared that the other nation was contemplating harming him in Sweden's stead. And even with Norway and Iceland, Finland rarely was his usually jovial self.

The truth was that Finland missed Sweden, more than he would have guessed, or more than he was even willing to admit to himself. The decades of living in the same castle had gotten him used to the constant presence of the taller nation, and if anything had bothered him, Sweden had always been there, at the very least willing to listen his worries, if not in a position to help.

It was not helping that he did not hear directly from Sweden, and only learnt snippets of information from rumours and gossip. Finland knew there was some kind of an uprising in the Kingdom of Sweden, and that the nation was fighting against the union. But he did not know how it was really going, nor did he know if he could really trust the rumours he heard.

Finland felt alone.

Even Norway was colder than before, and the other nation had been plenty aloof even before, and through him even little Iceland was affected. Everyone seemed to be miserable.

And just when Finland was starting to feel like he could not take it anymore, Sweden came back.

Just like that, like nothing untoward had ever happened, Sweden marched back into the union, and bafflingly enough, was even welcomed back by Norway and Denmark like they had never been caught unaware. And they probably had not been. It was just Finland that had been yet again left in the dark. Well, Iceland too of course, but he was still so young it was more understandable.

The welcoming back was a quiet affair – not anything alike Finland's own arrival decades earlier – but also a very tense situation. After the polite words no-one truly meant had been exchanged, Sweden stayed behind, and motioned Finland to stay too. Finland obeyed, even if he felt every urge to run away as fast as he could.

"I missed ya" Sweden whispered.

Finland stayed silent, looking at his shoes. When the silence resumed and it seemed like Sweden was expecting some kind of response to his words, Finland nodded. He honestly did not know what to say.

"Oh" Sweden sighed, and he sounded disappointed.

"Am I dismissed?" Finland asked, eyes still downcast. His voice trembled despite the fact that he was trying so hard to sound indifferent.

And Sweden let him go, looking puzzled why Finland was acting like this. And honestly, Finland did not even himself quite know why he was feeling so betrayed and out of sorts.

But what Finland did know was that even if he was a bit with cross with Sweden, the feeling was triumphed by the concern and trepidation he felt for Sweden now that the other nation was back. Because no matter how polite speeches Denmark might make for show of unity, he was still not back to normal and sooner or later he would make Sweden pay. Finland was sure of it, and it made his heart feel heavy with worry.

For a while, though, nothing happened. Things were even better, oddly enough.

Finland learnt that while Sweden's rebellion had not managed to make the country independent, it had been successful in eroding the union and regaining some degree of the self-government for each nation. So while they all still lived together, Denmark, Norway and Sweden were now too busy with their own affairs to antagonise each other. All the old issues were still there under the surface and ready to erupt, but Finland was grateful for the break, for his own changing body gave him none.

And it was truly the testament of how peaceful the life in the Nordic household had become that Finland now had time to fret about something as ordinary as his own changing body. It was just his luck, to be in the midst of puberty when he had quite enough troubles already.

It was not the embarrassment of his constantly breaking voice, or the odd new places that now grew hair that made him so weary, no. It was the dreams. The dreams that left him with soiled sheets and vague feelings of shame. To his further embarrassment, the few odd dreams he could recall somehow always involved Sweden.

It made it impossible for Finland to try to patch things with his western neighbour when he could not even look at Sweden without blushing. His solution to this problem was to avoid Sweden as much as possible, which was not very hard to do, since the other nation was now so busy in his work that Finland doubted he had even noticed something was off.

So Finland spent most of his time with Iceland, now that Norway had less free time. And he loved those moments, those perfect moments when he did not have worry at all, and simply focused on keeping the little land happy and entertained.

But alas, it was only the calm before the storm.

Slowly but surely, Denmark's grip on the union strengthened until it was greater than before. Norway was not really in the position to argue or resist, and even Sweden – as determined to fight tooth and nail against Denmark's influence as he was – did not succeed, despite his best efforts.

* * *

"Is this right?" Finland asked Iceland.

It had snowed – a rare occurrence in the Danish Kingdom. Finland and Iceland, the youngest lands, had been excited and rushed outside to play in the snow. It wasn't exactly the same as it had been back home, Finland mused. The snow was wet and easily mixed with the mud, but he didn't mind it much. At least it had given Finland an excuse to flee the Nordic household for the moment.

Denmark's and Sweden's fights had escalated again, and Finland worried someone might end up hurt – again. But there wasn't really anything he could do – Sweden didn't want to listen to him when he whispered him to cool it. Finland thought that Sweden was too proud, too hung up on his own freedom to do as he wished. Sure, their situation was not ideal, but then again, when was life perfect? Couldn't Sweden see he was making things so much worse?

"No. Bigger!"

Finland shook his head to clear his mind of his worrying thoughts. It was of no use anyways, to worry about things that couldn't be helped. It was better to concentrate on the little matters where he still could make a difference. Finland turned to look at Iceland. The small land was dressed warmly in the old coats – though they were too big on him, the hems almost touching the ground.

Finland smiled at the sight. You could barely see the child under all that cloth.

"Really? Even bigger?" Finland asked, and glanced at the big ball of slush and snow he had rolled around the yard. They were making a snowman, but Iceland still wasn't satisfied at the size of the bottom part.

"Yes! I want to make the biggest snowman… ever" Iceland said almost solemnly. Finland hid his laugh with a cough. Iceland's odd mixture of childlike cheer and tendency to copy his big brother's tranquil demeanour always amused Finland. The little land acted like a child he was, until he remembered himself – then his behaviour would change.

"Alright! Let's see if we have enough snow for that!" Finland said cheerily and went back to building the snowman. Finland had just finished gathering enough snow for the snowman's middle part when Norway rushed outside.

"Island! We're going inside!" Norway barked his orders, with a desperate pitch in his tense voice.

A chill which had nothing to do with the snow or the sub-zero temperatures ran though Finland's spine. This was something really bad, he knew it. Nothing fazed Norway, usually. When the other land was actually running around like a scared little urchin and ready to bite Iceland's head off when he normally doted the ground beneath his feet, it was more than obvious that something was way off.

"What's going on?" Finland asked warily.

But Norway didn't answer, nor did he even glance at Finland. He paused for a second, and looked like he wanted to say something. In the end though, he simply shook his head, and told Iceland to hurry.

But Finland needed to know. He stepped closer to Norway and grasped his arm, and forced the other land to look at him. Norway let him, which was worryingly uncharacteristic of him. His eyes were dark and hard, and his mouth frozen to an unforgiving tight line.

"What's going on?" Finland repeated, and then added: "…please tell me?"

Norway turned his head away and shut his eyes. Suddenly he looked weary to the bone.

"Go ahead Island, I'll catch you" Norway said to the little blond boy, who grudgingly did as he was told. Iceland wasn't happy his play-time had been cut short, but he did not want (nor did he dare!) to argue with his dear big brother. Both Norway and Finland silently watched the small boy march away, waiting for him to be out of the earshot.

"Well?" Finland asked when Iceland had almost reached the castle door.

"It's those two idiots again, what else?"

"Is it bad?"

Norway sighed and looked uneasy. Finland was utterly unprepared for the pitying look Norway gave him. He wasn't sure if it was that expression or Norway's next words what shocked him the most.

"'Bad' doesn't even begin to cover it. Just stay out of it. Sweden can handle himself."

But Finland was already running and leaving Norway behind on the yard. He did hear the other nation yell after him something that might have been pleas to stop, but Finland was too worried about Sweden to care. He just wanted to make sure he was alright…

He knew where the pair must be. The old throne room. It had not been in any real use since the days of the union queen, and she had been dead for decades now. But that's where Denmark had lately staged their little get-togethers where he made a real show of listening all their worries and making all kinds of badly faked sympathetic noises while he lazily lounged on the ridiculously ornate throne. These 'state of the union' -talks never amounted to anything. They were simply Denmark's way of showing he had won back all his power and prestige.

Finland didn't even want to think what might be happening right now in the throne room. He focused on running faster. Just a few corridors away, when he turned around the corner, he almost ran straight into Denmark.

"Whoa, Finland! Why such rush? Oh, did Norge go and get you? I'm sorry to say you missed the show" Denmark said, his words slow and slightly slurred. He wasn't outright drunk, but he certainly had been drinking.

At the first glance Denmark looked relaxed and calm, but his there was something sinister in his eyes that pierced the illusion of light-heartedness. His smile was too sharp, his face full of hard edges. Denmark's somewhat lopsided and distorted grin made Finland feel all the more uneasy.

Finland mess of emotions must have shown on his face, for Denmark's awful toothy grin widened as soon as Finland realised what the other nation might be referring with 'show'.

"Oh don't be like that. After all, we both know how truly _capable_ you can be when the great tragedies strike" the taller nation drawled, enjoying the effect of his words. His already tense grin vanished. "You can clean it all off again and pretend it never happened!"

Denmark's voice dripped in venom, his face now distorted in anger, all of his previous pretence gone.

"Will you wash _him_ clean and pretend he's in a deep _deep_ sleep, and wish with all your heart he'll wake up in the morning? Will you cry for him, hmmm?"

And Denmark's words grew more heated and his demeanour more erratic. Finland was rooted to the spot, afraid – and unable – to say anything back.

"Cry, little Finny, shed a single tear! Do you even know how? Did you cry for _me_ , at all? Did you? Answer me! Did you cry for me when _I_ was KILLED?!"

They looked at each other, eyes just as wide and wild. Denmark panted hard, trying to get his breath under control. He looked like a feral animal, ready to lash out. But when Finland didn't answer, his rage seemed to visibly deflate along with his whole frame.

Finland took a heavy breath. It felt like Denmark's words had manifested physically, curling around his heart and gripping it tight. He felt faint. Black spots danced in his line of vision. He now knew what sight would be greeting him at the end of this corridor.

"Will you hold his cold, cold hand through the night like Norge held mine?" Denmark whispered, his voice now barely audible. He probably didn't mean to speak aloud. The taller nation looked haggard and unhinged, and impossibly pale. It looked like the words he had lashed out had hurt him just as much they had hurt Finland. He shook his head, and skulked off, heavily leaning on the walls.

Finland didn't care where he went, all of his attention and thoughts were concentrated on what waited him on the other side of the throne room doors.

For a one fleeting second he imagined himself just turning around, going back to his rooms and forgetting that this had ever even happened. But it was an impossible fantasy to even seriously consider. He was too deep in this mess already. And he couldn't abandon Sweden there to wake up on his own, alone and forgotten. No. There was no real choice for him but to see this through.

The throne room was dim and utterly uninviting. Only moon light illuminated the grand room through the stained glass windows. But even with the poor lighting, there were no mistaking the curled up shape before the throne. Finland approached Sweden, carefully avoiding the dark puddle he knew must be blood. He gently grasped what he thought must be the shoulder, and pulled Sweden to face him. Sweden's head lolled to the side in an unnatural angle. The sight was grotesque, but as Finland paused for a moment, waiting for a reaction – ill feeling, tears, anything really! – there was absolutely nothing welling inside him.

Finland could see the wound now, the reason why there was so much blood around. Finland wondered if Denmark had plotted this, if the other nation had wanted to return the favour so much he had carefully chosen the same place for the fatal wound. The only difference was that Sweden's wound was not in the back of his neck. Rather, it extended nearly from ear to ear on the throat, forming almost a messed-up smile under his jaw.

It was an awful, gory mess, and Finland felt _nothing_. Calm and collected, like he was just watching something happen outside his own body, he gently pushed Sweden off the ground, and on his shoulders.

Sweden wasn't exactly a lightweight, but he managed. Luckily Finland had always been stronger than he looked. He carried Sweden back to his rooms, and laid him down on the bed. There was something mechanical and familiar in the way he undressed and cleaned the body of blood and other fluids, but he didn't want to dwell on it. It was unsettling enough that he had become efficient at this.

Lastly, when most of blood had been wiped away, and the wound had been cleaned and bound, Finland carefully and very gently nudged Sweden's head so that the wound was almost hidden underneath his chin and jaw.

Exhausted to the core, Finland sat on the bed and looked at Sweden. Now he looked like a person again, and not like a vaguely mangled sack of flesh. He did almost look like he was just sleeping, if not for the greyish tone of the skin. Finland covered as much skin as he could with blankets. Right now, it didn't matter, but if… _when_ Sweden would wake up, he would appreciate the warmth.

Finland sighed, and rose up. He still had the throne room to clean. He was almost at the door, when it hit him. Why should he be the one to clean up this mess? Taking Sweden back to bed had been a favour to a friend, but mopping up blood? Let Denmark deal with his own fucking mess for once!

Angrily he turned around and went back to the bed. As exhausted as he was, sleep was the furthest thing from his mind. Now that he had let the anger in, it felt like flood gates had been opened. Finland was pissed, at everything and everyone! There he was, forced to deal with the utter _idiocy_ of the bull-headed nations who would rather drag them all through the mud than to see the other triumph. This would end badly for them all, it was clear as day. Why couldn't _they_ see as well?

Finland turned his head to watch Sweden, wanting the other nation to wake up right now, so he could blame him, scream at him, anything to make himself feel just a tiny bit better. But Sweden remained still and ash white, as dead as dead can be.

Finland's fury turned into a profound shame. But even as his anger fled him, the feeling of nothing from the before did not return. Instead, it was like all the feelings he should have been experiencing during the past hour were just now catching up to him. He felt like crying, but couldn't, because he also felt like screaming. He wasn't sure, though, if it was a scream or a vomit that would force its way out if he opened his mouth.

It wasn't just turbulent emotions that shook his frame, it was also the cold. Deciding that the best course of action was trying to get some sleep, Finland slipped under the covers next to Sweden. Sweden would need the warmth after all, and Finland couldn't leave him here alone, not like this. Finland searched for the other nation's hand under the covers, and pulled it between them, between his own palms. The hand was ice cold and limp.

Denmark's words played out in his mind. Finland stroked Sweden's cold hand and thought about what the Dane had told him about Norway's vigil.

_Poor Norway_ , he thought. But then he corrected himself. It certainly wasn't just Norway who was affected. They were all victims of the circumstances. Norway and Iceland. Him. Even Sweden and Denmark. For the first time, he wished he could pray for the southern god like he had seen people do. Instead, he wished – not aloud, not even really knowing if his wish was a prayer to a god or not.

_Please, save us from ourselves._

* * *

When Finland woke up, the sun was already shining, and Sweden was awake. Finland smiled. He felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Sweden opened his mouth, but only a gurgle came out. Finland instantly sat up, worried. He leant closer to unwrap the binds and inspect the wound. The wound on Sweden's throat was still angry red and would probably leave a scar. But Finland wasn't sure if it had been deep enough to damage Sweden's larynx.

"Shh, you shouldn't try to speak" Finland said, suddenly afraid the possible damage of the other nation's voice box could be permanent.

But Sweden swatted his hands away impatiently. He stared at Finland, so seriously that the younger land did not dare to hush him again.

"When I leave" Sweden croaked, voice both gravely and faint. Even swallowing seemed to hurt him. "Will you follow?"

And Finland did not have think long for the answer. He had known for a while that this union was doomed, beyond any repair. And he also knew that Sweden's question was only a formality. Finland was still part of Sweden. Even if he said 'no' and stayed, Sweden would find a way to get him from Denmark. And Denmark certainly would not go to any great lengths to protect him, not when he had Norway and Iceland.

"Of course. Now don't speak again until your throat heals fully" Finland simply answered and started to change the bandages.

Sweden fell silent. He had, after all, gotten the answer he wanted. Nothing else needed to be said, and the tall nation let Finland do his work.

Stubbornness was something every nation in the north shared. It was a necessity. Who else but stubborn people would survive in such a harsh environment and thrive?

So Finland knew if Sweden said he was going to walk out of this union, he would so, even if it killed him.

_Again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Swedish rebellion I'm referring to in this chapter was the Engelbrekt rebellion (1434–1436). But basically the union was doomed from the start. Sweden certainly didn't want it, and different parts of Swedish society rebelled almost constantly. And often Denmark retaliated by attacking Finland. Because it was Sweden too, but an easier target.


	11. The End of the Status Quo

_Pain._

_Pain penetrated his skin, his organs and his bones. It penetrated his very being until it was all he knew, all he could feel. It was ever changing, but constant. It ranged from a hammering ache to sudden jolts of pure agony that made him trash about like he had lost his mind._

_"_ _You brought this on yourselves!" a voice screamed, and it sounded just as mad and broken as he felt. But it also brought some sense to him._

_Sweden. Where was Sweden? He had been there, before. He should be here now. And suddenly it was the only thing he could think about – the only thing that mattered._

_"_ _Sve?!" Finland_ _gasped. He needed to know Sweden_ _was there, needed to touch him, hear him. Only Sweden_ _would make this better._

_But Sweden_ _was lying on the floor, ash white and still, like a marvellously detailed marble statue rather than a breathing, living man Finland_ _needed him to be. He was dead, and Finland_ _was alone. Alone with his torment._

_"_ _He deserved this! You both deserve worse! " the voice screamed, and Finland_ _knew it was madness. The whole situation – pure madness. But the pain clouded his thoughts, so when he opened his mouth to say it, only a scream came out. An endless, almost primitive scream._

"Finland!"

_The pain ate at him. The mad accusations rang in his ears. He was all alone; he was nothing, less than nothing. And all he could do was to scream._

"TINO!"

Finland jolted awake. It took him few seconds to realise where he was and who was calling to him. But it was a familiar sight of sea-green eyes that greeted him. Sweden was above him, looking down with concern in his eyes and hands wrapped around Finland slight shoulders.

"It's alright. We're safe", Sweden said calmly and clearly, like he was speaking to a frightened child or a timid animal.

And Finland wanted to reassure him that he was fine, that Sweden didn't need to worry, but his breath hitched and his mouth refused to form the necessary words. The dream still had a grip on him.

"Shh, I know", Sweden hushed and gently brushed the back of his hand against Finland's soft cheek, to wipe away the fallen tears. And Finland leaned into that touch, needing to feel it – anything to get the images that still plagued him out of his mind. Sweden was alive and safe. They both were.

"Better?" the taller nation asked, voice still tender.

"Yes… thank you. It was just a bad dream", Finland explained, a bit unnecessarily. It was not the first time this had happened, after all. They had both had their share of bad dreams, lately. But they could deal with it; deal with the bad dreams – because thankfully, the thing with dreams is that you can always wake up.

Sweden let go of Finland's shoulders and lay down beside him. There wasn't much room in that small bed of theirs, and for once Finland was feeling pretty grateful about it. He was still shaken about the dream, and Sweden's warm presence next to him helped him to calm down.

Finland took a long, deep breath, and tried to think something more pleasant. He turned on his side, facing away from Sweden, and wrapped his arms around himself.

_I'm safe_ , he told himself. _Breathe, just breathe. It was just a dream._

But Finland was still reluctant of closing his eyes or falling back to sleep. The dream had shaken him and brought back things from the not-so-distant-past Finland would have preferred to forget. It was comforting to see the walls of the rustic little cottage he had grown familiar with these past few years. The cottage they now lived in was so vastly different from the Danish palace he had called his home for more than a century. But he didn't miss the luxury or the grandeur at all.

_Has it already been years since we left?_ Finland thought. The time had flown so quickly since they had fled from the union.

Finland shuddered. It was almost a reflex to him now when ever he thought about those times. The fights between Denmark and Sweden had grown bloodier and more and more frequent, until it had become almost a weekly occurrence for Finland to nurse Sweden back to health. But Sweden never gave up, never surrendered. No matter how badly he was hurt, he would just keep on going.

Finland had both admired him and feared for him.

Then one morning Finland had woken up feeling like he had been dibbed in a pool of boiling oil, and he had instantly known something had gone very, very wrong. But there had been no great confrontation like he had feared. Instead he had found Sweden still in his bed, awake, but too much in pain to rise up.

Finland shivered and burrowed into his blanket. He didn't like to remember that morning or how helpless and young Sweden had looked.

"They flow. The streets", Sweden had whispered, but he had passed out before he had the chance to explain what he had meant. Finland had found out eventually, when Denmark had come to gloat.

_"_ _Oh, he's not awake", Denmark s_ _aid after he barged into Sweden_ _'_ _s rooms. "Pity."_

_Finland_ _turned to look at him and instantly hated what he saw. Denmark_ _'_ _s face didn't show even a shimmer of regret – his smirk was as wide as ever. And Finland_ _hated him, for the first time he wanted to hurt the other land, wanted to swipe that stupid smirk away and make him pay. But he also knew he couldn't. If not even Sweden_ _could do that, what chance did he have?_

_So Finland_ _reluctantly lowered his gaze and swallowed his pride and his feelings. He focused on Sweden_ _who lay on the bed. He was still sweaty, still hurt, but thankfully he wasn't aware what was happening. It was sad day indeed when being unconscious was preferable to the reality._

_"_ _He passed out", Finland_ _said in case Denmark_ _would ask him to try to wake Sweden up. "What do you want?"_

_Denmark_ _huffed like he was being slightly offended by Finland_ _'_ _s manners. But Finland_ _didn't care to check if he was right, nor did he really care to correct his behaviour. What could Denmark_ _do to him anymore? Make him hurt more? That would only make him pass out too, and considering all that had happened, it would be a rather sweet release._

_"_ _Well? Aren't you even a little bit of curious about what happened?" Denmark_ _asked impatiently after a small silence._

_"_ _I'm sure you'll tell me whether I like to hear it or not", Finland_ _snapped back. He was seriously starting to lose his patience._

_This time there was no mistaking the offended huff coming from Denmark_ _'_ _s direction. This exchange probably wasn't at all going like he had imagined in his head._

_"_ _Sweden_ _'_ _s little rebellion is over."_

_It wasn't the words but rather the tone which made Finland_ _look up again, to see exactly what Denmark_ _had meant. The rebellion had failed and they had known that for a while. The Danish king had promised a full amnesty to all rebels willing to travel to the Swedish capital and lay down their arms, and Sweden_ _had sent the orders to comply to avoid unnecessary bloodshed. It wasn't the first rebellion to fail. It didn't matter. There would be others, in time. There always were._

_But now, Finland_ _was starting to feel less confident._

_"_ _What have you done?" Finland a_ _sked, needing to know but dreading the answer._

_"_ _It's over. Those who have long endangered our unity and prosperity have been dealt with. Properly, this time. There won't be another rebellion."_

_"_ _What do you mean, '_ properly _'?"_

_"_ _I mean they are dead. Every single one of them,_ dead _. Almost a hundred beheadings or hangings in a matter of days. The streets must've been red with blood."_

_Finland stared at the other nation, trying to understand what he had just heard. It was surreal. Denmark was too calm, too collected. He looked like was discussing weather over the tea rather than the real life horror story Finland_ _had just heard him recount._

_"_ _You – what? No, this can't be happening…" Finland_ _muttered in shock._

_Denmark_ _'_ _s smile widened. It seemed like at last he got the reaction he was looking for. He almost basked in Finland's reaction to the news._

_"_ _You brought this on yourselves. Always pushing, always resisting! Is it really such a surprise that I pushed back instead of caving in?"_

_"_ _Not like this!"_

_But Denmark_ _clearly wasn't feeling very sympathetic. He snorted and drawled out the next word lazily – tough his eyes never lost their dangerous glint._

_"_ _He deserved it. He deserves_ so _much worse. You'd do both of you a favour if you'd convince him to just let go. I'll never give in, and I'll_ never _let him win."_

Even If I could, I wouldn't! I'd egg him on! _Finland_ _thought furiously. Now that the initial shock from the news had started to fade, he found it increasingly hard to remain stoic under Denmark_ _'_ _s taunting. Finland_ _clamped his mouth shut and again tore his gaze away to stop himself from making things worse. Thankfully Denmark_ _hadn't even expected Finland_ _to answer. They both knew the smaller land held no such sway over the still unconscious nation._

_Denmark, having said what he came to say, started to leave. But he paused before the door, hand on the door handle._

_"_ _You know why it hurts him so much?" he asked._

_Finland stubbornly remained silent. It hurt him too! But did Denmark care? Obviously not, the wanker!  
_

_"_ _It's because it was his own people who sold him and his supporters out", Denmark whispered.  
_

_Then he_ _left, leaving Finland_ _alone with his heavy thoughts. But Finland_ _tried his very best not to let them get to him, and patiently waited next to Sweden_ _'_ _s bed, waiting for the moment the tall nation would wake up._

Finland hadn't known it then, but that moment – their greatest defeat – had been the tipping point which eventually would win them a war. The Stockholm bloodbath, as that event would later be called, would shape and mould the Swedish resistance against the Danish rule. The brutality of it would sway over the indecisive majority and even the most of the people who previously had endorsed the foreign rule.

After the events escalated from minor skirmishes to open warfare, it was almost over before it had truly started. After almost a century of struggle for independence, it was difficult for Finland to come to terms with that in the end it took only two years for Sweden to finally succeed.

This time there had been no more deadly confrontations between Sweden and Denmark, or dramatic escapes in the middle of the night. In fact, Sweden had stayed uncharacteristically meek during that time, concentrating on his correspondence with his troops and possible allies.

Then, after his troops finally captured Stockholm, Sweden had calmly approached Finland, ordered him to pack his belongings, and then he had led them out from the castle of Kalmar, and from the union.

In retrospect, it had almost been anticlimactic.

And now, wrapped in thick duvets and blankets in the safety of Sweden's cabin, it was almost difficult for Finland to recall the cold and fear he had felt when they had travelled through the night towards the unknown future. But he had also been exited and exhilarated. They were free, at last!

Suddenly Finland's reminiscence was interrupted by an arm wrapping around him and a warm body turning to hold him, spooning him from behind. Finland froze in trepidation. He could feel Sweden's warm breath tickling his neck, the lips only a few centimetres away from touching the sensitive skin of his neck.

Finland waited with a baited breath what would happen. His body was tout and frozen still.

But the arm on his waist did not move, nor did Sweden's lips touch his neck like he feared they would. The breath he could feel on his neck was too even and deep, telling him that the other nation was still asleep. Finland let out a breath he hadn't even realised he had been holding, and allowed himself to relax once again.

He might be free from Denmark's rule, but this… this overly affectionate behaviour of Sweden's had brought a whole new batch of problems in his life.

It was not like Finland was constantly afraid Sweden would hurt him, no. Most of the time they in fact carried on like they had before they had left the Kalmar union. Finland took care of the most of the menial tasks in Sweden's little cabin. He cleaned and cooked, and chopped some wood when it was needed. Sweden on the other hand spent most of his time in his study, slaving over tax records, account books, letters and such. But he didn't seem to mind it this time around. Maybe it was because this time the paper work was all _his_ and no one else's.

Finland didn't mind his tasks, either. Someone had to do them, right? And frankly, he didn't have anything better to do, in any case. So they had very quickly fallen into this quiet, serene everyday routine where they would both do their chores during the day, and then spend the evening together, usually in a comfortable silence.

But sometimes Sweden would stare at him – and that stare would be so yearning, so terrifyingly _hungry_ , that Finland knew it would be futile to try to fight the tendrils of pure panic coiling around his heart and gripping it hard.

And sometimes Sweden would moan in his sleep. He never tossed and turned in his sleep like Finland did. Even in the grips of the vilest nightmares the other nation would simply groan and slightly fidget. But Finland knew that when Sweden moaned and whispered "Finland", or "Fin" or even "Tino" over and over again, he certainly wasn't witnessing the tall nation in the midst of a _nightmare_.

And every now and then – like _right now_ – Sweden would touch him, sometimes intentionally and sometimes not, but always managing to scare Finland. Because despite the dreadful thoughts and the fight-or-flee instincts that battled in Finland's mind whenever Sweden was too near, he also could not deny the pleasant little shivers and tingles Sweden's touches evoked in him. It was taxing – to both dread Sweden's touches and look forward to them…

So, even if Finland wasn't exactly afraid of Sweden, he certainly was wary of him. He had not forgotten how Sweden had treated him before – how the other nation still treated him. Oh sure, he might have gotten all concerned about him whenever he had fallen ill, or gotten pains all over his body, but it seemed like Sweden rarely even thought why exactly those things were happening.

Finland himself was still often left to dark about the happenings back home. And his connection to his lands had become so faint after a more than a century away from home, that he himself could not tell _why_ he sometimes fell to his knees and coughed up blood.

But Sweden must have known all of the causes. He was in charge now, so simply _must_ have. But he didn't want to make things better. Or he couldn't. It was a frightening thought that Sweden only cared about the boy called Tino, and not about the land called Finland. They were the same, no matter how long he was kept away from his home.

But it was equally frightening to think Sweden cared, but simply _could not help_.

Finland shivered and wrapped his blanket tighter around his throat. He couldn't still move much, lest he woke up Sweden who was still blissfully unaware how tightly he had wrapped Finland in his arms.

Finland closed his eyes, and wished that a sleep would grant him a rest from his heavy thoughts.

* * *

"What did he say?" Finland whispered, but got no answer other than Sweden shushing him, with a finger raised to his lips and all.

Finland immediately fell silent, although he did feel like pouting. He was bored. Sweden had for some reason dragged him to court that day, to see something the other nation had described to him as 'very important' and 'world-changing'.

But now he stood in the midst of a crowd of people without seeing practically anything, other than the backs of the people standing in front of him. Sweden was standing next to him, eyes clued to the king and the man before him, listening intently. Well, it was easy for him. He was a head taller than the most, whereas Finland had to stand on his toes if he wanted to see _anything_!

And the little he could see, wasn't that interesting, to be honest. The man before the king was presenting some kind of a book. Finland was too far back to hear what was happening, but he had a pretty good guess. This wasn't the first time something like was happening. The book must have been a new Swedish translation of some kind, most likely a religious text. Three years back he had stood in a very similar ceremony where a whole new Swedish translation of the bible had been presented to the king.

Sweden had been acting like this even then, only even _more_ intense, if possible.

Finland stifled a yawn. He wasn't that interested in Sweden's new passion that had sparked this new fancy for translating text in Swedish.

The Reformation.

Finland knew it was a big deal for all kinds of people. It was all the aristocracy would talk about, how it would personalise the faith, how it would at last bring even the common people an actual understanding of their worship.

To Finland it was a yet another sect of church he would pay his lip service to, but did not really understand – or cared to understand.

The common people weren't as accommodating as he was about the change, though. They didn't understand why the crown seized the lands that had traditionally belonged to the church. Nor did they understand why there was any need to change something that had more or less worked for centuries now.

Finland knew the crown wasn't _that_ interested in the theological aspects of The Reformation, but rather in acquiring the vast amounts of wealth the church possessed. But he also knew there were some influential figures in the high positions who genuinely wanted what was best for people. Sweden was one of them. He wanted his people to be able to read the bible themselves. And not just the bible – Sweden had told Finland that he dreamt of the day when all his citizens could read, and maybe even write.

And Finland agreed. So even if didn't care much for the religious aspects of the reformation, he did welcome some of the changes.

That is, except when he had to endure the endlessly long hours of boring speeches in the court, of course. He knew he was being rather petty, but his feet still hurt, and the man standing before him was still taller than him, and he still couldn't hear anything, and most importantly, it was still _boring_.

But he endured. At last, the people started to leave and Finland let out a sigh of relief. It was over, _thank gods_.

But his relief was premature, because suddenly Sweden grabbed his hand and started to drag him toward the throne. Finland really did not want to go, but he also didn't want to cause a scene, so he followed Sweden, cursing under his breath.

They didn't go towards the king, like Finland had feared. Instead, Sweden stopped before the man who had translated the book. Sweden and the man changed a few pleasantries, and Finland sneaked a peak at the man. He didn't look that interesting. He looked just like every other priest in the country. There was something about him that felt… different to Finland, somehow, but he couldn't out his finger on it.

"And this is my… friend, Tino", Sweden said and introduced him to the man. Finland must have missed the man's name though, and silently prayed it wouldn't come up in the conversation. He also thought it was odd how Sweden introduced him. Most of the people in the court knew who and what he was. It was a rare thing that Sweden used his name in front of the others.

"I know who he is", the man said, and he looked at Finland with such gentleness, that it took him completely off guard.

"I have something for you", the man continued, and it took Finland an embarrassing long time to realise the man was speaking his own language to him!

"Here. This is yours. The first I had to give to the king, but this? This is yours, if you accept it."

Finland was opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of the sea, completely dazed, not knowing what to say.

"Thank you. I – Thank you", he managed, at last. It felt odd to him, having a conversation in Finnish again with somebody, after so many years of speaking in some variant of Scandinavian languages. His words of thanks also felt so inadequate, but the man did not seem to mind, for he smiled, and simply offered the book which was still neatly packed in red silk. Finland took it, and gently caressed the silky fabric, still quite bewildered about the turn of events.

Not long after, Sweden led him from the court, and they travelled back home. It wasn't far, the little cabin where they lived. But Sweden didn't want spend any more time in the court than he had to, and Finland was quite happy about that. He liked the rustic little cottage. It reminded him of home.

When they were back, Finland didn't waste any time before lighting a few candles and opening the book.

"Sille echke teme coco Somen Makunda ombi yxi Hijppakunda…" he read aloud. Then it hit him. It was Finnish! He was reading his _own language_! He continued to read more aloud. Then he just had to put the book down. He was too overwhelmed.

"Did you know this was in Finnish?" Finland asked Sweden, who had come to listen the smaller land reading aloud.

The baffled look on Sweden's face would have been funny, it Finland wasn't already overwhelmed by far more intense emotions.

"Yes, of course. I ordered it. For ya. For yer people. So everyone can read their own language", Sweden said, at last. He looked a little hurt. He had, after all, explained his plans before this, and now it seemed like Finland had not even listened.

But Finland had listened! He just never thought Sweden had also meant to include the Finns in his plans, and not just his own people. Finland did not want say it out loud. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt Sweden more by implying he had thought the other nation selfish.

So he simply stepped closer to Sweden, looking deep into his eye.

"Thank you. Thank you _so_ much. You don't know what this means to me."

And when Sweden looked like was about to argue that he did, in fact, know what the gesture had meant to the other nation, Finland did the only thing he could think of how to shut him up. He wrapped his arms around Sweden and rested his head against his chest.

"Thank you", he gasped again, this time against the folds of Sweden's shirt.

Sweden did not even try to argue this time around. He simply held the smaller nation closer.

"Can I ask something?" Finland said after a while, his voice still muddled by Sweden's shirt.

"Hmm?" Sweden replied. He did not seem to be very focused on Finland's words.

"Why did the book talk about 'Finland' instead of 'Österland'?"

"What?"

"It said there was a diocese of Finland. Not 'the diocese of Österland'. Finland."

Sweden pushed the smaller nation from his arms with a concerned look on his face, and immediately placed his cool palm on Finland's forehead.

"Are – are ya feeling alright?" Sweden asked, and his voice had taken in an odd mixture of tenderness and alarm.

Finland swatted his hand away. He wasn't sick. He wanted to know why the other nation was acting like this in response of a simple question.

"I'm fine. Now, tell me!"

And yet again poor Sweden looked completely perplexed.

"There hasn't been 'Österland' for decades", Sweden begun to explain. He talked really carefully, like one would talk to a slightly slow child. "It's all part of you now. Tavastland, Savolax, Karelen, Nyland, Satakunda, parts of Österbotten, and of course Egentliga Finland… it's all you, it's all _Finland_."

Finland opened his mouth to say something – he wasn't sure what – but no words came out. Well, this was new record. He had been shocked into silence twice this evening.

"I need to lie down", he said, deciding that he really did not want risk having a third shock of the evening. "Don't follow!"

"I thought ya knew…" Sweden whispered after him, looking miserable like a kicked puppy.

_I thought you knew? I thought you knew?!_ Finland repeated the words in his mind, now absolutely furious. How could have he known when Sweden never told him _anything_?

So Sweden had made him… A what? Some sort of a ruler over his kin? Just thinking about Karelia and Tavastia being his _underlings_ made him kind of sick in his stomach. They were probably just as happy about the turn of events as he was.

Then a horrible thought came to his mind. If he was now the personification of _all_ _Finland_ , where there even Tavastia or Karelia left? He pushed that thought right out of his mind. No matter how difficult Sweden was being about indulging the information he thought Finland ought to know, he wouldn't have kept his silence about the death of Finland's _family_. Tavastia and Karelia were fine. Well, probably a bit mad about the change of their status, but otherwise fine. They simply had to be.

But if anything, this cemented the opinion Finland had had of Sweden for a while now. No matter how much the other nation would tell him that he cared about Finland, there simply was no trusting him. Because if every gift came at the expense of a secret, well, that simply wasn't a very good trade, now was it?

* * *

Estonia warily approached the grand doors to the throne room and carefully listened in. He had learnt a long ago to not simply barge in, and frankly, sometimes it was better to just walk away, no matter how urgent his news were.

But now he did not hear anything disconcerting and after taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he proceeded to knock the door.

Estonia waited for an answer, patiently. He knew better than to knock again, and he also knew the rooms weren't empty. After a minute or so, it became apparent that an answer was not forthcoming.

_Oh dammit, Liivi! Now is not the time to play your stupid, simpleminded games!_ Estonia furiously thought. The piece of paper he held in his hands could ruin Livonia, yet the nation seemed to think the information it contained could not hurt him as long as he could hide in his rooms and avoid seeing it.

But Estonia was not about let that happen. It might have not been his own decision that had made him a part of Terra Mariana, this 'Land of Mary' as Livonia liked to call the nation he commanded. But Estonia sure as hell was not about to let the damned idiot ruin them all.

So he took another deep breath, opened the door and stepped inside. It took him a few seconds to get used to the darkness in the room. Livonia had ordered all the great windows to be covered with thick drapes which prevented all natural light from entering the room. Estonia could not help but feel a bit sad. This room had been beautiful, once. Now it was like a dank, dark cave, a hideaway for a delusional nation on the brink of desolation.

And there, in the middle of the room, was Livonia, carefully polishing already gleaming breast plate.

"Latvis! Bring me a new rag!" Livonia bellowed then, and only now did Estonia notice Latvia, who had been huddling in the corner but jumped upright as soon as Livonia opened his mouth.

"Scratch that. Latvia, go get something to eat and then go your room", Estonia said gently. He was utterly unprepared to see how gratefully Latvia looked at him before scurrying off as fast as he could. How long had Livonia kept the poor little nation here?

But Estonia did not have much time to think about that before Livonia turned his attention at him. Estonia mentally braced himself. There was a real chance that this could turn pretty ugly pretty soon.

"You fetch me a rag then, if you insist sending the help away", Livonia said, and turned to look at Estonia.

And despite Estonia feeling a little less-than-generous towards the other land at the moment, he wasn't made of stone. No one with a heart could have looked at Livonia then and gloated at his misfortunes. Gone were both his radiant prince-like beauty and his easy, well-liked manner. Livonia was a mess. His hair had not seen a pair of scissors for a half a century nor a comb for almost as long. His sunken eyes and the dark circles around them made him look sickly, and the fact that he had lost a lot of his former weight did not help one bit. Estonia stood a good few paces away from the other land and he could still smell the putrid stench coming from his direction.

_Oh God. When was the last he has bathed_? Estonia thought.

Livonia did not think highly of Estonia's sympathy, though. He scowled and turned around again, and started to scrub the armour again with the old, grimy rag, though this time his swipes were hasty and careless, almost angry.

It was easier for Estonia when he could only see Livonia's back. It was so much easier to despise someone when you couldn't see how pitiful they actually were.

"We need to talk about the report", Estonia said, and internally he cringed at how gentle his tone of voice had turned. He could not afford to be gentle! Not now, not when Livonia had already driven them all on the edge of disaster.

"I know what it says, and I don't want talk about it. Go bother Latvis if you want, but leave me alone", Livonia replied. At least he had seemed to cool down a little, if his more calmed manner of cleaning could be trusted.

"I can't! Trust me, I would want nothing more than to leave this place and leave _you_ , but as it stands, _someone_ needs to make the decisions around here to save us from this mess!"

Livonia's shoulders hunched and he stopped polishing the breast plate. He didn't turn to face Estonia though, but it was still encouraging. Maybe his words were finally getting through.

"If you have indeed read the report, then you know what we need to do. We simply can't defend ouselves when we're being attacked from all the directions. We need allies. We need Denmark or Sweden to come to our aid, no matter the cost –"

But Livonia wasn't listening anymore, if he ever had. He even snorted when Estonia brought up the need for allies. And Estonia, who had vowed to himself he would remain calm no matter what Livonia would say or do, lost his cool.

"This isn't funny, you fool! Can't you see what's happening? You. Are. _Dying_! You're in a deep shit and there's no Prussia to bail you out this time!"

"Do NOT mention that name!" Livonia yelled suddenly, his behaviour changing so rapidly Estonia could only blink in surprise before Livonia was standing before him, frothing from his mouth like a rabid dog and shouting to his face like a mad man he was. "You're not worthy to even say _his_ name aloud! He might've been cruel bastard, but he was worth a ten of you!"

Estonia blinked slowly, completely taken back. This was the last thing he had expected to happen. Livonia had been acting all erratic for a while now, but still, Estonia had not even in his wildest dreams thought he would have to stand there and be lectured about the supposed virtues of _Prussia_! Not for the first time, he had to wonder what on earth had happened between those two. Estonia still wasn't sure if Livonia hated Prussia, or loved him. Maybe it was little bit of both.

What he did know was that Livonia had been some sort of an underling of Prussia, taking his orders and enjoying his protection. Then, over a hundred years ago, a few decades after Estonia had come under Livonia's rule, the other nation had done something Estonia would have once thought unthinkable. Prussia had battled a rising union of Lithuania and Poland, and had called for Livonia to help.

But Livonia had ignored him, and Prussia had been defeated. The Teutonic Order still remained, ensuring that the white-haired nation still lived. But he was a shadow of his former self, having lost his country, his lands. Estonia had not seen him since, nor had Livonia. Estonia didn't know if was that moment that had broken his brother, or if it had been something Prussia had done even earlier. But he couldn't deny that Livonia was indeed a broken shell, as much as Prussia was rumoured to be these days.

Something in Estonia's behaviour must have softened, or perhaps his eyes betrayed some of these thoughts. What was certain was that Livonia visibly bristled up, but instead of screaming more, his expression turned out right vicious.

"You speak of _allies_ – of Denmark, or of _Sweden_? You still think they care for you even the tiniest bit? You are just a stepping stone for them, if even that. Denmark doesn't need you, doesn't want _you_! He has his family already, and you're not included. And _Sweden_?"

Livonia laughed, but it was a hollow, joyless laugh.

"You're not Finland and you could never be like Finland to Sweden. You are _nothing_ to him."

A silence ensued, broken only by Livonia's laugh that quickly turned into a coughing fit.

"What are we to do then?" Estonia whispered. Although Livonia's words had hurt him, the matter still needed to be decided. "The Polish-Lithuanian Union threatens us from the south and Russia from the east. Now Denmark is about to land on my western islands, and Sweden is sure to follow on my northern shores… What do _you_ think we should do?"

"I can deal with Poland, Lithuania and Russia. I always could" Livonia said. He seemed more grounded now, like he just had needed a good shouting match to get going again. "Denmark only wants those islands. Sell them, and he is a threat no longer."

"S-Sell them? Sell Saaremaa and Hiiumaa?" Estonia said faintly, barely believing what he was hearing.

"Yes. That ought to take care of Denmark. He never wanted anything else, only those islands. You were merely a consolation prize after Prussia deceived him out of what he really wanted", Livonia almost purred, enjoying every second.

Livonia waited for Estonia to answer, perhaps to deny his words, but Estonia was in shock, too bewildered to give any retort. And after a short while, Livonia sighed like he was already getting bored of the lack of Estonia's banter.

"You deal with Sweden, if he lands in the north. You can go home – wherever that is, I don't care – just take care of it", Livonia ordered, and then dismissed him. Estonia watched as the other nation happily went back to cleaning his armour like their confrontation had never happened.

Estonia quickly left, before Livonia changed his mind. He was a little dazed about the turn of events, but now that he was getting further away from Livonia's awful room with every step, he was beginning to realise how successful he had really been.

No, he wasn't happy about the order to sell his islands to Denmark, not at all. But still, the most important thing was that Livonia had given him a permit to go home!

Estonia smiled. He was starting to feel rather giddy. He had been stuck here, in this horrid place Livonia liked to call his palace for almost two centuries. And now he was going home! And no matter what Livonia ordered him to do, he wasn't about to throw his life away battling a foe when he had no chance of winning.

Estonia hasted his steps. He had a couple of very important letters to write.

* * *

Estonia stood in the shadows, ready to bolt if needed. He wasn't afraid, not really. What he felt was more close to anticipation mixed with a good dose of trepidation. He stood in the dark alley behind an empty tavern. He was waiting, patiently, for Sweden to show up.

It had taken him only a few letters to arrange this meeting. He had also approached Denmark, but the island nation held no real interest in recapturing the Estonian lands. Well, other than the western islands, of course. In the end, Estonia had been forced to sell them, just as Livonia had commanded. It had hurt. It still hurt. There was a constant hollow feeling in his chest where those islands were supposed to be. But it had to be done. Denmark would have taken the islands in any case, so better this way. At least the people would be saved.

In the end, the choice had been easy. He had reached out to Sweden, intent on abandoning a sinking ship rather than going down with it.

Approaching noise startled him from his thoughts. Sweden was finally here. Then when he realised the other nation had not come alone, he frowned. Sweden was accompanied by a half a dozen of experienced soldiers.

_Ah, no matter_ , Estonia thought. He wasn't alone either. He had enough trusted men with bows and arrows hidden on the nearby roofs, so if need be, they could quickly turn Sweden and his men to look like porcupines.

"You came", Estonia said as a greeting. He looked at Sweden with curious eyes. Gone was the gangly and awkward boy. The man before him was still a head taller than the rest, but it seemed like he had finally grown into his looks.

"Ya asked me to", Sweden blurted.

Estonia rolled his eyes despite himself. Well, maybe the awkwardness wasn't _all_ gone.

"That I did. Thanks for coming. Come on in, we can talk in the tavern", Estonia quickly covered. He didn't want Sweden to think he had called the other nation here to insult him.

Estonia led Sweden inside by the nearest table and poured some beer into his mug. The tavern was empty. Estonia had arranged it so, and he had also bribed the town guards so they would let Sweden to pass into the city well after the dark.

Now that Sweden was sitting in front of him, Estonia found himself to have a bit loss of words. Sweden watched him, calmly, with his piercing pale blue-green eyes. Estonia knew the other nation would not be the one to break the ice.

"You're probably wondering why I asked you here?" Estonia asked, kind of proud of himself that he managed not to stutter.

Sweden nodded.

"Right. So I'll get straight to the point", Estonia said, and took a deep breath. _Here it goes._ "Livonia is mad. And I do mean he's crazy, he's completely delusional and thinks he can still win against Polish-Lithuanian Union _and_ Russia. And then sends me back here, to battle you…"

Sweden's eyes narrowed.

"…which I'm definitely _not_ going to do", Estonia hurried to add. "So here's my suggestion: I'll let you advance without resistance. I can't promise that Livonia's troops won't fight, but I can promise my own people will do as I ask."

"And what do ya want in return?"

_This is working!_ Estonia dared to hope, even if only in the safety of his own thoughts. Sweden wasn't turning him down, he was negotiating. This was already going on better than what he had dreamed.

"I'm not asking much. Russia, Poland and Lithuania will take care of Livonia, so I don't fear his retaliation. But with time, they'll probably turn their attention back to me. I _don't_ want to become a part of Russia. You'd gain the strategic advantage of having both shores of the Gulf of Finland under your rule."

Sweden was silent for a while, and then he nodded. Estonia waited with a baited breath. Was this confirmation for the truth of his words or something more? With Sweden, it was always difficult to decipher.

Then rather abruptly, Sweden rose up and walked to the door. Estonia's stomach dropped. It didn't work. He had poured his heart out, thinking Sweden would appreciate the honest words more than playing ridiculous games. He had hoped… _It didn't work._

"Are ya coming?" Sweden asked, glancing at him from the door.

"Umm… Coming where?" Estonia replied, now completely baffled.

"To my camp", Sweden simply said, like it was obvious what he had meant. "Or did ya still need to go get something before we leave?"

And Estonia laughed, though he didn't know if it was because of pure relief or because the misunderstanding _was_ kind of funny.

Sweden looked at him, now a bit bemused himself.

It didn't matter, though. Estonia rose from his seat, still chuckling, but trying to get his laughter – and more importantly, his nerves – under control. If there was anything sure about his future with Sweden, it was that there was bound to be a fair amount of miscommunications between them, Sweden being who he was.

_Better get used to this_ , Estonia thought as walked out with Sweden.

* * *

I hadn't taken Sweden long to conquer the northern counties of Estonia. Estonia's people had not fought back – and why would they? It did not matter to them that much who ruled over them, after all. The Livonian troops and some German-born nobles had tried to put up a fight, but it had very soon become more than apparent that they simply were taxed too thin, and unable to truly resist.

So now Estonia – or, the Duchy of Estonia, as his land was officially called – was a part of Swedish dominion, and on a board of a ship bound back to Sweden.

He would have preferred to stay back home, to be honest, but at the same time, he could not fault Sweden too much for taking him with him. Had he not just showcased the extent of his loyalty when he was given a free range? Anyways, it did not matter. He had not even dreamed that he could have stayed home.

It was still difficult to leave so soon after being away for so long.

Estonia sighed. At least they were soon there. The sea voyage had not been exactly pleasant – the Baltic Sea rarely was in the late fall, and truth to be told, he rather looked forward to seeing Finland again.

_Gods, how long it has been?_ Estonia thought. A few hundred years, give or take a decade or two. Too long.

Sweden appeared to stand at his side. They looked as the ship gracefully glided into the harbour.

"Were here", Estonia whispered.

Sweden nodded and said: "welcome to yer new home".

The journey to Sweden's cabin was an uneventful, even boring ride through the endless forests. But Estonia barely even noticed the scenery. Frankly, he was feeling all too impatient to notice anything, really.

At last they reached the cottage, and the first thing Estonia saw was Finland, sweeping the stone stairs like little maid with a scarf wrapped around his head to keep the hair from falling into his eyes while he worked. And he was talking. Estonia was still too far to hear the exact words, but the tempo and the intonation told him it must have been Finnish he was hearing. And the audience? A couple of curious squirrels peeking from the nearby branches.

He looked utterly ridiculous. And so very much like the old Finland he knew and loved that Estonia could help himself. Before Sweden had had the time to say a word, Estonia had already thrown himself off the saddle, and run towards the cabin.

"Soome! Tenho!" he shouted.

Finland raised his head, and for a moment he looked confused. For a short, awful moment Estonia feared that the other land had forgotten everything about him and would not recognise him. But his fears soon turned out to be false, for just a moment later Finland threw the brush on the ground and ran towards him.

Estonia could see Finland's lips moving and he thought that the other land must be calling out for his name as well, but the excitement had made the blood rush in his ears, and he could barely hear his own shouts.

And then they met, in the middle. Estonia was almost tackled to the ground by the force of Finland's hug. But he didn't mind one bit if he was black and blue tomorrow. What mattered was that Finland was _there_ , in his arms, hugging him like his life depended on it.

And Estonia laughed until he almost cried. He could remember the last he had been this happy!

"Let me look at you!" Finland said then, and he too was laughing through his tears like a mad man.

And for a second they simply stared at each other, taking in all the changes. Finland was older, taller, but his hair was still as fair as ever, and his eyes were the same odd shade of bilberry-blue. He was beautiful. It didn't matter to Estonia that Finland's eyes were red and puffy, or that his hair was a mess. None of that mattered, he was still beautiful.

And Estonia brought his hand to cup the back of Finland's head, and gently pushed until their foreheads touched slightly.

"I missed you. I missed you _so_ much", Estonia said. He needed Finland to hear it.

"I missed you, too", Finland whispered back.

Then somebody cleared their throat, and Finland jumped away from him. Oh right, _Sweden_. In his excitement, Estonia had nearly managed to forget him.

Sweden stepped closer to Finland. He didn't touch the other land, but there was something rather possessive about how close he stood. Then looked right at Estonia, and spoke.

"This is _my_ wife."

"Oh", Estonia said, his heart sinking even if he was rather confused. _Wife?_ But before he could think anything else to say, Finland piped up.

"What – No! Don't joke around like that, Sve!" Finland said and laughed. But it was quite clearly a tense, forced laugh, and was quickly dropped.

Sweden glanced at Finland, and looked hurt. Estonia wasn't sure if he heard it right, but it sounded like Sweden muttered 'joke?' before his gaze hardened once again, and he glared at Estonia with clear warning to stay away, _or else_ –

But before the weird battle of wills could even truly commence, Finland nervously ushered them both inside, sat them by the dining table and quickly fixed something to eat for both of them.

Finland chatted just about everything that popped into his mind, keeping their dinner discussion light. And after a while, Sweden didn't bother to glare at Estonia anymore – well, any more than he usually did.

This at least was something that was different about Finland, Estonia mused. The old Finland used to blurt out every thought just as they popped in his head. But now? Estonia did notice he rather masterfully dodged all the subjects that could escalate the situation again.

After the dinner they started to tell each other what had happened to them during these years apart. Sweden quickly realised he wasn't wanted around and excused himself. But he still stayed close by, out of the earshot, but still glancing at them every now and then like a watchdog.

But Estonia didn't care about Sweden's jealous behaviour. He wanted to hear everything that had happened to his friend.

And they talked through the night, long after Sweden had dozed off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The events I'm referring in this chapter are (in order of an appearance):
> 
> The Stockholm bloodbath in 1520, the dissolution of Kalmar Union in 1523, The Protestant Reformation in Sweden and the Swedish and Finnish translations of the bible (in 1541 and 1543 respectively), the Livonian war (1558–1583) and the Duchy of Estonia (1561-1721).


	12. The War of Swedish Succession

It had taken Sweden no more than a week to move them all from the little cottage to a proper manor home on the outskirts of the Swedish capital. Maybe the little cabin had been a bit crammed and it certainly would not have housed any additional guests, but Estonia could not help but notice that Sweden had given him a room as far as possible from Finland in their new house. And that despite the manor having many rooms, Sweden still insisted that he and Finland would share one.

Estonia thought Sweden's behaviour was not only petty but also a bit ridiculous. It was as if he was showing off… or even trying to court the other land, heavens forbid. Sweden showered Finland with gifts – with pompous, silly gifts in Estonia's opinion – like he thought he could buy the favour of the smaller land. But it did not seem to work as intended. Sure, Finland smiled when Sweden declared him a _Grand_ Duchy (compared to a plain old duchy, like Estonia was), but that wasn't saying much. After all, Finland _always_ smiled. It was rather obvious to Estonia when Finland's smiles were tense and fake, and he wondered why Sweden didn't seem to be able to see the same.

So when Sweden commissioned heraldry to be made for Finland and for every Finnish county, Finland smiled and thanked the tall nation, but Estonia could easily see behind that polite mask of his. Finland clearly was not at all pleased about being reminded of his new elevated status. And Estonia understood why that was, since that change had come at the expense of their kin. What he could not understand was why Sweden was being so obtuse about it all. Perhaps the tall nation only saw what he wished to see and believed only what he wanted.

But Estonia could not deny the pleasure he felt when Finland turned to him with a wide, bright smile without any prompting or bribes. He knew it was childish to gloat over the attention he got from Finland for simply being there, while Sweden barely got noticed by the smaller land after all his efforts. Estonia knew it was wrong to use his friendship as an immature competition against Sweden. But he was _winning_ , and he so rarely got to win at _anything_ – especially against countries like Sweden – that he decidedly squashed the questioning little voices in his head and basked in the knowledge that he was better than Sweden at least in this one very specific thing.

In his more self-conscious moments he realised his way of thinking was just as ridiculous as Sweden's behaviour had lately been.

But it all was rather harmless, really. His silly little one sided contest with Sweden did not change the sheer joy he felt now that he was free from Livonia and under the protection of a far more competent and powerful nation.

Being united with Finland was simply the icing on the cake.

Not that he got to enjoy Finland's company that much. Sweden – drunk with his newly found independence and power – had yet again turned his attention to the east, to Russia. And for some reason, the tall nation insisted Estonia should accompany him on these voyages. Why that was, Estonia did not know. Perhaps Sweden had noticed his meticulous nature and his neat script, and decided to put these skills in good use. Estonia did not mind being in charge of accounting books. He had done a similar job for Livonia, after all, and Sweden certainly was a much more pleasant superior.

Still, a faint but very persistent voice in the back of his head whispered a very different reason for his inclusion. Perhaps Sweden was too afraid to leave Finland with Estonia while he was away fighting wars…

But whatever the reason, Estonia knew Finland wasn't happy about being left home all by himself. It was rather obvious that Sweden only wanted to keep him safe and sound, but if Estonia knew his friend at all, the other nation was not grateful about being treated like a fragile little flower – or even worse, like a trophy.

Estonia had also noticed something more worrying about the relationship of his northern neighbours. He knew Sweden cared about his friend – at least in his own way – and wanted to shield Finland from the evils of the world. But you could not do everything for someone and still expect them to stand on their own two feet. Finland had grown up sheltered and ignorant, making him – well, not exactly selfish, but certainly self-absorbed. But he also was kind and always cheerful, even if he also was painfully naïve.

Perhaps that was the reason, Estonia mused. Finland was so damn… _pure_ , for the lack of a better word. And because of that, Sweden tried his very best to keep him so, to guard him against the harsh realities of the world.

Estonia sighed. He wished he was wrong about Finland. And perhaps Sweden would always be there, so there would be no real need for the smaller northern land to actually grow up. But if there was something to be grateful about being made a scribe, it was the fact that even if it perhaps wasn't the most clamorous of jobs but in the very least it kept him well in the loop of things.

Estonia knew what was happening, and that knowledge made him even more grateful about his current situation. From a far, Sweden was easily dismissed as taciturn and asocial – and sometimes even his most well-meant intentions were excruciatingly misguided – but the tall nation always tried to do his best and truly seemed to care more about the common people than many of his contemporaries.

And as he now had a full access to war reports, it was easy to see what his fate had been if he had remained with Livonia. The Livonian Order had been defeated and ceased to exist, its lands divided amongst the more powerful neighbouring nations like a carcass ripped apart by hungry wild beasts.

Estonia shuddered. He did not know the fate of his brother, and frankly, he couldn't conjure feelings of concern when there weren't any. But this did not mean he wished actual harm on Livonia. Wherever the other land was, on this life or the next, he did wish that Livonia would finally find some measure of peace.

The outcome of the Livonian war, it seemed, had favoured the west: Sweden – in an alliance with the newly formed Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, long since cemented in place with a marriage between a Swedish prince and a Polish princess – had driven Russia back and won Ingria from the eastern nation.

When Estonia had met Ingria, he wasn't sure which one of them had been more surprised. Estonia surely had changed since they had last met. He knew what Ingria must have seen when she looked at him: a meek little accountant, content being in the shadow of Sweden, nothing like the warrior he had been in the past. Estonia could see the disappointment in the girl's eyes clear as day.

Ingria had changed as well. The little snotty brat was no more, in her stead a tomboyish girl with a long fair braid and angular features, looking battle-wearied beyond her years.

The initial surprise did not change the fact they were more than pleased to see each other after so many years. And the joy they felt only grew when they travelled all the way back to Sweden and were united with Finland.

Estonia was happy. It was an odd feeling to have, especially since he simply did not remember the last time he had truly felt this way. And the best part was that he was actually looking toward to the future, to the changes the Swedish rule would bring. Sweden had not exactly made any promises, but even the common people in Sweden Proper enjoyed so many privileges majority of Estonians simply lacked. Surely Sweden would see the benefit of modernising the unfair and inefficient rule of law that plagued Estonia? Estonia was again full of hope.

But it soon became apparent that his hopes and dreams would have to wait for a better time to come.

* * *

After the death of Johan III in the year 1592, the Swedish realm was left in chaos. His son and only heir, Sigismund III Vasa – already the ruler of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, a throne which he had inherited from his maternal uncle – should have been the one to accede his father also on the Swedish throne.

But his uncle, Duke Karl, the brother of the late king, was unwilling to cede the power he had become accustomed to wielding. Most of nobles in Sweden favoured the Duke. After all, he was a proper Protestant, and with him there were no risk for the nobles to be forced to give up the former properties of the Church they had acquired during the Reformation. Sigismund on the other hand was not only a Catholic, but also practically a foreigner.

But the matter was not that simple, since Sigismund wasn't willing to let go of the throne which belonged to him by the birth right. And he wasn't without his supporters. Among them powerful players in the Eastern part of the Swedish Realm and the dominions of Sweden.

But Finland wasn't aware of the problems facing the Realm. Sweden kept him pretty much in the dark about the matters concerning the state. Not that he lived in a complete bubble, no. He visited the court with Sweden now and then, and though he was usually mostly ignored there, he still heard snippets of information.

In 1594 Sigismund was crowned as the king of Sweden. As it was a custom, both Sweden and Finland were there, as were Estonia and the newly acquired dominion Ingria. Finland had fussed with their clothes and hair to the point they both had tried to run away from him. Finland himself didn't know why it mattered to him so much if they looked presentable or not, since most likely they would be ignored, just as he always was.

But he had succeeded. He hadn't wanted his family to feel the same he had felt more than a century ago during the union when he had had to appear in before a Danish monarch dressed in rags. Estonia and Ingria looked beautiful and well-groomed – fit to stand among the nobles and royals.

The crowning was uneventful – even slightly boring – affair. The celebration afterwards was only a little better. They had to formally introduce themselves to the new king. In normal circumstances, this was only a formality, as the heir would have known Sweden for a long time. But for Sigismund, it was truly an introduction to the land he was about to rule over.

Sweden walked to the king, keeping Finland firmly to this side. They kneeled in front of the throne, though Sweden quickly rose. Finland remained where he were. He knew very well it was expected from him to keep kneeling. It was after all the symbolic gesture of submission.

"Rise, Finland", the king said in strangely accented Swedish.

 _Huh, this is new_ , Finland thought. For a moment he wasn't sure what to do, but then he slowly rose to his feet. He glanced at Sweden, to get a better understanding what was going on, but the other land was just as baffled, looking at Sigismund with wide eyes.

Finland turned his gaze towards the king as well, and the king was looking back at him smiling, like he knew exactly what was going on in Finland's head. How he could have had, Finland had no idea, since he didn't himself have a faintest idea what to think about the incident.

They exchanged the familiar words of the ritual, just as always, and turned to join the coronation party again. Sweden was silent and deep in thought. He crossed the dance floor Finland still in tow, paying no mind to the other guests. On the other side of the hall was Duke Karl leaning to a wall and nursing a drink.

"He's plotting something", Sweden said right away as he reached the duke.

"Of course he is. You didn't expect him to put up a fight?" Duke Karl said, sounding amused and eyes intently on his amber-coloured drink. "It is of no matter. He just gave away the game."

"He did?" Sweden said, sounding a tad taken aback. "What's he gonna do then?"

The duke didn't answer, but glanced at Finland. Sweden followed his gaze, and seemed a bit surprised to find Finland standing there, like he hadn't realised the other land had followed him. Then his eyes narrowed.

"Finland, go find Ingria and Estonia. The duke and I have things to discuss."

* * *

Not two years after the coronation, Duke Karl summoned the Estates against the direct order of the king. They appointed the duke as the Regent of the Swedish Realm, to rule in the king Sigismunds' absence. As it was expected, the nobility in Finland and Estonia rose against the decision, led by the Sigismund's most powerful and loyal Swedish subject, Klaus Fleming.

Finland had been anxious about these events for a while now. Sweden had lost Ingria back to Russia earlier on the same year when the eastern nation had attacked the eastern parts of Swedish realm, but it seemed Sweden had not really cared. In Finland's mind, Sweden had become too absorbed in the game of thrones to the point that it had started to affect negatively almost every corner of the realm. The country was on the brink of a civil war and instead of trying to curb it, Sweden actively encouraged it by acting in the favour of the duke.

Estonia had been sent home for the time being, to gather support for Duke Karl from the local nobility. On the other hand, Finland was happy for him. It was rare after all that a dominion could travel back home on his own, and it must have been great opportunity for the other land. But he could not help but to think that the absence of Estonia made his life very dreary. Finland was lonely. Not only was he missing his best friend, but also Sweden was very busy attending meetings and having almost no time for him.

So when Sweden approached Finland one evening with a grave look in his eyes, explaining to him that the duke wanted him to travel home to do similar work Estonia was already doing in his own country, the answer was easy to give, even if he had no real choice in the matter. It was peculiar how far Sweden was willing to go for his regent considering that before he had always kept Finland as close by as possible.

So Finland agreed to go, although in truth, he didn't like the plan at all. He didn't particularly care for the duke, either, and he most definitely didn't like how the duke affected Sweden.

Finland's mission back home was fairly simple. He would travel back home, to the Eastern part of the Swedish Realm to act as a ruse to hamper Sigismund's hold of the region.

And it shamed him.

The peasants of the Osthrobothia were tired of the tyrannical rule of the Governor Fleming, and they had asked help from duke. Instead of real help they would get the short little land and a bunch of promises from Duke Karl Finland was sure the Regent had no intentions to carry out. These men, his people, were only meant to act as a distraction in the great scheme of things, and it made Finland sick to his stomach.

But he wasn't in a position to do anything about it but to comply. So comply he would, to ride with the Finnish peasants to open rebellion against the Governor of Finland.

Finland had been given strict orders by Sweden and the duke on what to do once he got home.

 _Promise them that the help of Swedish troops and more financial aid will arrive as soon as ice melts_ , Finland reiterated the commands in his head. _Stay out of the fights. Try to prolong the rebellion. If Fleming comes after you, flee._

But when they had been alone, Sweden had given him two additional orders.

_Stay safe. Come back to me._

Those had been the words Sweden had whispered to him in the darkness the night before he had left. Sweden had held Finland tightly in his arms on their bed, like he was afraid this was the last time he could touch and hold the other land. Finland didn't really get it. If Sweden was so reluctant to part from him, why was he willing to let Finland go home to do his bidding, his dirty work?

But Finland had no time wonder about Sweden's motives and behaviour. He was almost home! Despite everything, he could barely contain his excitement. It had been well over two hundred years since he had even seen his shores and now the smells and sights were almost enough to overwhelm him!

The crossing of the Bothnian Sea had been surprisingly pleasant, and the journey had been swift. Now that Finland stared at the coast that he knew in his heart to be all _his_ , he felt such a longing in his chest that for a moment it was difficult to get enough air in his lungs to shout out the order to land.

And if staring at the endless forests had been emotional to him, it did not compare to the feeling of actually standing on his own turf. They rushed back at him, all the repressed feelings, all the sensations he had thought lost. The land _breathed_ under his feet, like it could at last let out the happy sigh of relief that its heart had returned home.

If it had not been for the crew of the ship watching his every move, Finland would have knelt down and kissed the earth. As it was, he simply stood there, the quiet stream of happy tears running down on his face, listening carefully what the land could tell him. It was still weak, the connection he felt, not like he remembered it being before he had been forced to leave. But it was there. For the first time in God knows how long Finland could say _it was there_.

It was almost enough to get him forget his mission for a moment. But alas, not soon after the rebels met with him.

They were a sorry lot. And that really was the nicest thing Finland could think about them. The rebels were simple peasants, and such they were sorely lacking of arms, horses and men with any combat prowess. Finland could tell this would not end well. But the orders were orders, and the will of Sweden and the regent had been made clear. These men were meant to be the sacrifice on the altar of power and war.

In that instance, the vague feeling of shame Finland had felt ever since he had left the Swedish capital turned to full-blown self-loathing. The men looked at him with pure adoration in their eyes – like Finland had travelled there to be their personal saviour.

Finland felt sick in stomach. He wanted to shout at the rebels for being such a trusting party of fools. He wanted to curse Sweden and hurt the duke for making him do this to his own people. But in the end, he did as he was told, like a good little subordinate would.

The peasant uprising was difficult enough to control, the rebels being content to wander around the countryside, pillaging farmsteads and manor houses. It didn't take long before Fleming's soldiers found them.

It was a massacre. The rebel peasants were poorly equipped and unaccustomed to fighting – some of them literally wielding sticks and stones. They were no match for trained soldiers sent to curb the rebellion. Finland sat on his stocky little bay horse, looking down the hill at the meadow where the battle was taking place. By his orders, he should have already fled back to the western coast to try and raise another rebellion. But he couldn't move, shocked still by the sight so horrible he was sure he couldn't forget it for the rest of his life.

He was no novice of the war, but to witness such carnage, to feel the fear and every death of men who had followed him, _believed in him_ … And knowing he was responsible for it… Something inside Finland snapped. Instead of fleeing the scene like he should have, he rode straight in the middle of the battle.

"STOP, STOP! LAY DOWN YOUR ARMS!" he screamed of the top of his lungs both at the rebels and the soldiers while also trying to physically place his horse and himself between the two warring sides. His own troops did obey him, albeit a bit reluctantly, and even the enemy soldiers stopped their attack in a pure astonishment at the turn of events.

"You!" Finland yelled in Swedish, and pointed at the one of soldiers. "Who is commanding officer? Point me at him, right now!"

The poor lad was too shocked to answer, but luckily one of the officers was at the scene and took over the conversation.

"What do you want, rebel scum?"

"We will surrender to you on the condition that you'll let the common people go" Finland said.

"Let them go? We were given orders by the Governor himself to detain the leaders of this uprising and haul them back to Åbo!"

"You can detain the leaders if you let the rest of them leave in peace. You'll also have me, and trust me when I say this: the Governor will be very pleased with you if you deliver me into his hands."

The officer seemed to consider this long and hard, before finally nodding. At his command the other soldiers forced Finland off his horse a bit roughly. But to Finland, it didn't matter much. The soldiers could be as rough with him as they liked, as long as they allowed the majority of the peasant rebels to go home in peace.

The journey to the city of Turku was uneventful. The officer had been a man of his word, and the most of the rebels had been let go. Only the few leaders had been detained. The rebel leaders had cursed and cussed at Finland, accusing him of treachery and cowardice. Finland agreed with their opinion of him, but it didn't matter. At least like this majority of the common people had been saved.

When they reached the Castle of Turku, Finland had to pause to take in the sight. The castle had barely been more than a keep the last time he had been here. Now it truly was a castle in the truest sense of the word. Not that he had much time to compare what exactly had changed before a one of the soldiers ordered Finland to move along.

Inside the castle, he was taken right away into the main hall.

"Suomi, is that you?" said a perplexed voice.

Finland turned towards the voice, and what he saw shocked him silent. Tavastia stood near a small door on the other side of the hall next to an older man who Finland presumed was the Governor. But the fact that had shocked him was how much Tavastia had changed the last time he had seen him. He had grown much taller and older, and he was dressed in gleaming breastplate and expensive clothing looking like every bit like a prince ready for battle. He looked absolutely radiant.

"It is you!" Tavastia exclaimed, grabbing Finland into a bear hug before letting him go and holding him at an arms length away. His pale purple-blue eyes scanned Finland almost eagerly.

"I can't believe my eyes", Tavastia said at last, his voice faint like whisper. "You look so different. So… grown up."

"Look who's talking!" Finland laughed and gestured with his hand how he was a half a head shorter than the other land, despite the fact that in the past they had always been the exact same height. Tavastia laughed heartily at his remark. It was so uncharacteristic of him that at first Finland was a little taken back, but he quickly joined in. Finland genuinely felt like his heart was bursting of joy. He had not even realised how much he had missed his brother.

Tavastia wasted no time guiding his brother from the hall and getting him fed and out of his dirty clothes. Only a few short moments later they were sitting alone with full tankards of beer in hand. Now that the initial bliss of seeing each other had passed, it seemed that neither of them knew what to say.

"So", Finland started to say, trying his best to break the ice, "this is your room I take it?"

Tavastia looked at him oddly, but nodded.

"You don't recognise it? It was your room too, once."

Finland looked around again, but the room didn't look familiar to him at all. Too much had changed. He looked at Tavastia sheepishly and shook his head.

"It's alright. I'm sure it pales in comparison with what you're used to", Tavastia said trying to keep his voice light, but some amount of odd bitterness was seeping through.

Finland did not understand why Tavastia's words suddenly sounded so poisonous, but never the less he felt like he needed to explain that Tavastia had him figured out all wrong.

"No, not at all! My room is about the same size, but I also share it with Sve!" Finland said, but then quickly rushed to correct himself, "…I mean R-ruotsi". The word felt strange on his tongue.

But instead of appeasing Tavastia, the words made the other land jolting up in his seat and then cast an uncomfortably long gaze at Finland with suspicious, narrowed eyes.

"I… see", Tavastia said slowly, at last. "And you don't… mind?"

"Mind what? Sharing the room?" Finland asked, trying to figure out what Tavastia was getting so bristled about. "I mean, sure, he does kind of hog the bed at times, but – "

" _NO_! I don't want to hear the _details_! Good gods, how can you be so blasé about being _used_ like that?!"

"Huh? Used like _what_? What are you –" Finland started to ask, running the conversation over in his head, trying to understand this odd turn of events. Why was Tavastia being so appalled about simple act of sharing a room and a bed, and ranting about Finland _being used_ –?

Then it hit him, and he turned bright red.

"No", Finland gasped out, his voice shaken from the pure embarrassment. "Nothing like _that_."

A short silence ensued.

"Riiight", Tavastia drawled out, clearly not believing Finland's words in the least. But when Finland opened his mouth to object, Tavastia pressed on: "not that it matters, now. What matters it that you're back home, safe from the clutches of that mindless oaf."

"He's not a mindless oaf…" Finland muttered weakly, feeling a bit offended. But Tavastia heard his comment loud and clear. His expression soured again.

"Really now, Suomi? Defending him? After what he sent you here to do? He kept you from returning home for more than a century, and still you defend him? Have you lost your common sense?"

Finland didn't answer. He didn't have an answer. The words his brother spoke rang true.

"Sweden doesn't care about this land. He might want _you_ in his bed, but other than that? Where were his soldiers when Denmark attacked us? Where were they when Russia ravaged our coastal towns?"

Finland closed his eyes and hid his face in his hands. There wasn't any malice in Tavastia's voice this time around. He spoke calmly and matter-of-factly, and it made it so much more difficult to hear. Because in his heart he had suspected the same for some time now, but had dismissed his thought. Now he had to listen, and the words carried uncomfortable truths.

"He was quick to discard the lives of the Osthrobothnian peasants, just to get rid of his former political ally. He lost Ingria to Russia, and didn't even _care_. Our people are second class citizens in their own home land…"

"Stop!" Finland gasped. It was too much, too painful to hear. "I get it! Just… please stop. I agree, alright?"

Tavastia fell silent, but the smile on his face was nothing if triumphant.

"But what can we _do_?" Finland asked. "Surely Sweden is better alternative than Russia?"

"Ah, but that's where we need you. This is another thing Sweden would have wanted to keep from you. The truth is that Sigismund favours _us_. The duke only cares about Stockholm and his own estates, but the rightful king knows that his loyal subjects hail mainly from Suomi and Häme. And the dominions."

"Viro is involved?" Finland asked. Estonia had not said anything to him. It kind of hurt, not being trusted with that kind of information. But Tavastia shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know. Eduard might not be involved directly, but his people certainly are. The question now remains: will you be?"

Finland felt torn. He knew what Tavastia had said was true. The Finnish lands and people had lately been barely an afterthought for Sweden, no matter how much he showered Tino with gifts and attention. But to openly act against him? After all they been through together?

"Well?" Tavastia pressed, eager to hear the answer.

Now that Finland was home again, now that he had at last renewed the connection he had not felt for so many years… The truth was, he did not want let it go. He was the land, the bridge between the people and the ground they walked upon. He was tired of being kept in the dark while his people suffered.

"I will", Finland whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The historical events mentioned in this chapter are: The Livonian War (1558–1583), the Cugdel War (1596/97), The war against Sigismund (1598/99). Note that if you search wikipedia for more information about the Vasa dynasty, the names are often anglicized, i.e. use Charles instead of Karl, John istead Johan and so on.


	13. The Aftermath

Finland looked down from the narrow castle window at the enemy troops camping beyond the castle walls, just outside the firing range of a longbow. Sweden and the duke certainly had not wasted any time before rushing to rein in the rebellious eastern provinces.

Tavastia had trusted that the governor's title and wealth would keep them safe long enough for Sigismund to intervene. Now, it was apparent that the trust was had been misplaced. Finland briefly pondered if he was the reason why Sweden had dared to act so openly. Now matter how powerful the regent was, Sigismund still was the king, even if in the name only. But he quickly brushed those thoughts out of his mind. It was silly to think Sweden would risk the open civil war over something so trivial as getting Finland back.

If anything, this siege simply was a proof that the duke was so sure of his power now that he dared to act openly.

Finland sighed. Everything had gone wrong as winter had started to change into spring. It had been disheartening enough that the early spring and the melting of ice had allowed the Swedish troops to cross the Baltic Sea earlier than anyone could have predicted, but to make matters even worse, Governor Fleming had also fallen terribly ill.

Finland had not seen Tavastia in weeks, the other land practically holding a wake beside the governor's bedside. Finland did not blame him. All their hopes and dreams rested on that man, after all.

Suddenly, Tavastia arrived at his side, jolting Finland out of his thoughts.

"It's over", Tavastia said, his words sounding hollow.

"What do you mean?" Finland asked. The castle had been under a siege from Sweden's troops for some time now and there had been no word of re-enforcement coming from Poland. Their situation had been hopeless for a long time since. But until now, Tavastia had not wanted to admit defeat.

"Governor Fleming is dead", Tavastia whispered, eyes staring at the vast amount of enemy troops outside, but probably seeing nothing.

"What?"

"I said he is _dead_!" Tavastia hissed, turning to look at Finland.

"Yes, I _heard_. I meant, _how_?" Finland hissed back, feeling a bit baffled.

"Died peacefully in his sleep, the lucky bastard!" Tavastia yelled, now getting worked up. "And left us to deal with this mess, _God dammit_!"

"Keep your voice down!" Finland hissed, noticing the Governor's widow near by, though thankfully just out earshot.

"I will _not_! Don't you see? WE ARE _FINISHED_!" Tavastia shouted. Then he visibly deflated, and whispered barely audibly: "We are ruined. There's no future for us now. Not now, not ever…"

Finland winced, and noticed that the widow pursed her lips in disapproval. _That much for being out of an earshot then_ , he thought.

"I don't know what Sweden will do to us, but this isn't the _end_ ", Finland trying console his brother. "He isn't some bloodthirsty monster – "

"Not to _you_ , perhaps!" Tavastia interrupted. "But he has _always_ hated me. Now, this is his chance to get rid of me, once and for all…"

" _No_ ", Finland simply retorted with a sure, even voice, "I won't let him".

Tavastia smiled at him, briefly, but did not seem to believe him. Instead the other land sighed, and turned to address the soldiers nearby.

"Open the doors for the duke. No reason to delay this any further, now."

The soldiers looked at each other in fear, clearly reluctant to obey the order. But they also knew they had already lost. Without resources, re-enforcements, and now, even without the commander, there simply were no reasons to keep the siege going on. Couple of the soldiers hobbled towards the main doors.

There was nothing to do but to wait. It was nerve wrecking, to wait for the inevitable to happen. In away, it was a relief when the duke's soldiers finally barged in.

The last thing Finland saw before the Swedish soldiers escorted him out of the hall was the governor's widow staring down the commander of the intruders with such disapproval that the poor man visible cowed. It was incongruous how the sight actually made him feel a bit better.

* * *

Finland had been escorted back to his room and locked in.

But he didn't have to wait for long before he heard the distinct sound of a key twisting in the lock and then a slight knock on the door. The door opened right after, though, before Finland even had the time to open his mouth.

It was Sweden. Finland instantly lowered his eyes and stared intently at his own shoes.

For a long while, none of them said anything. You could have cut the tension with a knife. Then Sweden spoke.

"You lost", he stated the obvious. His voice sounded cold, but flat and dead.

Finland nodded. He didn't have anything to say to that, nor did he have the courage to raise his gaze and look Sweden in the eyes. He feared what he might see in them.

"What happens now?" Finland asked instead, anxious to hear the answer. But he got none.

After a while Finland had to sneak a peak at the other land, to see why he didn't say anything back. But Sweden didn't look at him. The other land stared at the wall just as intently as Finland had stared at his shoes earlier.

"What will happen?" Finland repeated, in case Sweden hadn't heard. But it became apparent that Sweden had heard him just fine, but for some reason did not want to answer.

"Sve, look at me, please", Finland pleaded with a tiny voice, almost whispering. But he knew Sweden had heard him none of the less, for the other nations had flinched quite visibly. Not for the first time Finland wondered what was that strange power he had over Sweden, how on earth could he make a fearless and dominant nation like him to flinch at a mere mention of his own name… But Finland pushed those thoughts out of his mind, like he always did, anxious to go down on that unfamiliar road.

Sweden ignored him. The tall nation had turned his gaze away from his companion, and he was still staring intensively the white wall on the other side of the room. Finland sat up, and cautiously approached the other land to put his hand on Sweden's shoulder trying to get his attention. The quiet nation flinched again when he stepped closer, so Finland stopped in his tracks, few steps away from the other land.

"Sve? Please…" Finland pleaded, but in vain. Sweden quite clearly did not want to look at him.

"You'll be travelling with me, tomorrow morning. We'll go home", Sweden said at last, his voice quiet and more monotone than normal. He still stared at the wall, but at least he had spoken again.

"You won't be returning here for some time, so take everything you need with you", he continued, sounding flat and impassioned. It wasn't anything like Finland had imagined him to be. He had thought Sweden would be enraged for sure, he had feared for a horrid punishment. Instead the other nation seemed to be defeated, even in his victory.

"In Stockholm, you'll be grounded. You don't get talk to anyone, and when you do, you'll be watched at all times. Do you understand?"

"Yes", Finland said, now whispering. But it seemed that was enough for Sweden, for he nodded to himself and started to walk outside.

"Wait!" Finland gasped, "what about Häme?"

Sweden froze mid step, his body fixed in place with obviously tense muscles. Finland instantly realised his mistake and swore in his head. That had got to be the worst way to ask about the fate of his brother.

"…I mean Tavastia", he corrected. "Please, please tell me what's going to happen to him."

Sweden was quiet for a long time, lost in his thoughts. Just as Finland was ready to open his mouth to plead once more, the other nation replied.

" _Tavastland_ is a traitor to the throne. He went against his king and ruler, and raised the rebellion against His Majesty."

Sweden raised his head, but still refused to look at Finland.

"He went against _me_ , his nation. He will have to be punishment! He is a traitor".

This all was delivered in the same cold and clinical tone of voice the tall nation had used all this time. It chilled Finland's heart to the core. He took a few fumbling steps toward Sweden, his arm raised in front of him, like touching the other nation would reveal a hidden meaning in those harsh words.

"No, you can't. Please… please Sve, you just can't…"

"He didn't just betray our country, but dragged it to a civil war. He lured the entire eastern part to side with Sigismund, he wanted to sell our country to Poland. He is a _traitor_. He _must_ be punished!"

"LOOK AT ME!"

Sweden turned around at last, eyes wide in surprise. Finland stood rooted to the spot, one arm still raised, and clearly horrified at his own audacity. For a little while, they both just stood there and stared at each other.

"He didn't lure me", Finland gasped at last, hesitantly, though his voice quickly grew to be more steady and sure. " _I_ made the decision to follow them myself. If Tavastia is branded a traitor, then so should I. And if he's punished, then you'll have to punish me too."

Sweden didn't react, didn't move at all. Finland took a cautious step forward and placed his hand gently on the taller nation's chest.

"If he's a traitor for starting a civil war, what does that make _us_?" Finland whispered, trying to make the other nation see reason. "You did after all send me here to incite people to open rebellion."

But that was clearly a wrong thing to say. Sweden's wide eyes narrowed and his expression froze. He swiped Finland's hand off his chest and tried to take a step back, out of the room, but Finland was having none of that. The shorter nation lunged forward, knowing the matter was now out of simple reasoning. It was time for drastic measures. He almost tackled Sweden, arms hugging his middle. Finland buried his face in the folds of the other nation's shirt and let his legs go limp under him.

"I beg of you, Sve, please don't hurt my brother, please don't!" he cried, kneeling on the floor in front of the tall nation, all pride forgotten in favour of his brother.

"I don't want to see him hurt! I can't, Sve! You hurt him once, and I haven't forgiven myself! If you have to hurt anyone, hurt me instead!"

Sweden was silent, once again, and after a while Finland just had to raise his head to see if his pleas had any effect, though he still rested it against the other's stomach. Sweden, it seemed, was absolutely gob smacked. The teary purple-blue eyes stared at the startled green-blue eyes.

"You can keep him in Tavasthus Castle, you can tell him not to travel outside his lands, but please spare him. If you do it, I promise I'll do anything. _Anything_."

This seemed to jolt Sweden out of his surprised state. He averted his gaze and blushed. Finland briefly contemplated if he was embarrassed for him, for his behaviour. And Finland probably would have been embarrassed for himself if he had not acted on a whim.

"Get up, please", Sweden muttered, red in face.

Finland didn't lose any time to comply, and the other nation helped him by grapping his arms and lifting him off the floor to his feet. But the smaller nation did not step back, nor did Sweden release the hold of his arms. They stood still, chest to chest, eyes locked on each other. Finland noticed how flushed Sweden was, and it bemused him.

He knew Sweden wanted him. He wasn't all innocent, even if the technicalities of love-making were a bit vague to him. He knew there was a primal urge in nations that drove them to conquer others, to take them. He knew the usual fate of a defeated land, even if he had never personally had to go through it.

When he had still been on his own and had waged war with Sweden and Russia, they had all been children, unaware of that side of conquest. Later he had recognised the want in Sweden, for it was the same want that lived deep down in him, and in every nation. The want to utterly possess another, to show the other land his true place.

But despite his concerns after the dissolution of Kalmar Union, the powerful nation had never made him feel like there was any basis for his fears. Sweden clearly cared about Finland more than his own carnal desires.

Finland had been content in their living arrangement, and he had ignored any sign Sweden had consciously or unconsciously tried to give that he perhaps wanted more. It had been bad enough to be called 'wife', let alone actually being one, Finland had thought, intent as ever to carry on as they were.

But now, when Finland stared deeply in the light coloured eyes of his companion, he thought it might not be the worst thing in the world: to be a wife. Hell, if the conversation with his brother was anything to go by, everyone already thought he and Sweden did things that were only meant for married couples! If a simple act like that would save his brother, why wouldn't he just lay back and think of England – _figuratively speaking_ of course.

Slowly and hesitantly Finland raised his hand to gently touch Sweden's cheek. The taller one of the two did not swat the hand away like Finland had feared he might, but actually leaned into the tender touch like a big, docile cat.

 _The lion of the North, indeed_ , Finland thought, and smiled. Encouraged by this reaction Finland raised his other hand, gently cupping the taller nation's face between his palms. Sweden was looking at him uncertainly, like he feared that any minute now Finland would take his hands away and tell him this moment had been just a one big practical joke.

Finland had hard time to associate this timid and blushing man with the man the whole north knew to be fearless in battle and unforgiving to his enemies. He couldn't help but smile a bit wider at this.

Sweden, on the other hand, seemed to see something else in that smile, for he averted his gaze like he couldn't bear to look into Finland's eyes anymore, and tried to turn his head away. But Finland held on with a surprising strength, forcing Sweden to look at him. Those sea-green eyes were filled with vulnerabilities and hurt. Finland hadn't realised before how expressive Sweden's eyes could be.

Not wanting the other to think he was merely playing with him, Finland threw his hesitance to the wind. With a one swift movement he got up on his toes and in the same time forced Sweden to lean down with his hands still cupping his face, and brought their lips together.

For a moment they both just stood there, joined by their lips. Finland could feel his companion's lips on his; they were dry and a bit chaffed, but still supple and very warm. He had closed his eyes when he had kissed the other land, and now he opened them again. Sweden was looking back at him, eyes wide, startled like a deer in the headlights. It was all very awkward.

Finland felt silly and embarrassed at the same time. What had he been thinking? The only experience he had with kissing were some innocent pecks on the lips with Estonia ages ago, and those certainly weren't what Sweden was after! Feeling quite embarrassed, he began to pull away from their embrace, only to be stopped by Sweden, who seemed to be at last jolted out of his shock.

In an imitation of Finland's earlier moves, Sweden brought their lips together again, and this time he didn't stay immobile. His lips moved against Finland's, begging them to join the passionate dance. The smaller nation was more than happy to oblige. Sweden squeezed Finland against his frame, and the moan that escaped from Finland made a perfect opportunity for the other nation to deepen the kiss.

The kiss was anything but perfect. It was a bit sloppy and a bit too wet, but it did not matter. For Finland it was enough that it was Sweden pressed against him and holding him in his arms. And it seemed that it was same for Sweden, if his enthusiasm was anything to go by.

Their kiss made Finland feel a bit light headed, and he had to lean on Sweden. The other nation didn't seem to mind at all.

After a while they had to stop to come up an air. They both opened their eyes to look at each other, and this time it was not embarrassment shining in their eyes, but a shy excitement. Sweden nudged Finland's arms gently, so the other would entangle them, and then grabbed his hand.

"Come" Sweden mumbled, and started to walk towards the bed, the younger nation in tow.

That realisation made Finland stop in his tracks. Yes, he had but a few minutes ago made the promise to do anything to help Tavastia, but now that things indicated to come to just that, he suddenly didn't seem so sure.

Sweden didn't appear to understand his hesitation, or maybe he just chose to ignore it, seeing as he just lightly pulled Finland's hand to make him follow. They made their way to the bed and sat down on it, Sweden still holding a tight grip of the other's hand. For a moment they sat there, Finland looking at their linked hands. Sweden moved slightly on the bed, drawing closer to his companion. He brought his other hand under Finland's chin, to make him raise his downcast gaze.

"Wait" Finland interrupted, and the hand fell. "I need to know… if we do this, you have to promise me you'll save him…"

"…Save him?" Sweden repeated sounding utterly confused.

Finland lifted his head, needing to see how Sweden would take his terms. But Sweden just slowly blinked, the comprehension sweeping into his eyes like he was suddenly awakened from a dream. It had been a pleasant dream for sure, but the reality happened to be so very different. For moment Sweden had seemed to submerge himself in this fantasy so completely that he had truly forgotten the situation, and their roles in it.

Finland could see Sweden's eyes turn cold, his expression freezing into an unreadable mask. The taller nation suddenly pulled away his hand like the other nation's touch had burned him. In a one fluid motion he bolted off the bed and out of the room, leaving Finland looking after him in confusion.

* * *

After a restless night – most of which Finland had spent tossing and turning in his bed, thinking about both the fate of his brother and the embarrassing incident with Sweden – Finland had gathered his belongings, ready for the journey back to Stockholm, even if he wasn't quite sure if Sweden even wanted take him with him anymore.

He still wasn't sure what exactly had offended the taller nation so much, but something clearly had. Was it that he had demanded something in exchange for sex? Had Sweden found his pleas so out of place he had simply become furious and disgusted with him?

Finland sighed. He quite plainly did not know what went on in the mind of Sweden, and frankly, it was useless to even try to understand. After all, he had spent entire night doing just that, and it had not brought him any closer to comprehension.

A knock on his door interrupted his thoughts. Finland quickly made his way on the other side of the room, and opened the door. It was Sweden. Finland instantly blushed and looked away. There had been no eye contact though; Sweden was just as intent on focusing on his shoes as Finland was.

"Come on, we need to go", Sweden said awkwardly. "Do you have everything?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Good."

Finland went back to the room and picked up his bag. It wasn't at all big or heavy, as most of his things would be moved by the servants later. His bag contained only his personal objects he didn't want anyone else to touch.

When he reached Sweden, the taller nation turned around without saying anything and began to briskly walk down the corridor. The Castle of Turku was a maze, and most of the rooms were accessible only through wooden passageways on the walls of the inner ward. Not only was their moods gloomy, but so was the weather outside. Finland certainly wasn't happy that they would be crossing the Archipelago Sea in this weather.

Finland followed Sweden without really seeing his surroundings, deep in his thoughts. They crossed the smaller courtyard and reached the main gate. Finland was pulled out of his thoughts by the sudden stop. They were standing in front of the open gate.

Finland could see the sea beyond the moat bridge and the castle yard. Just as he opened to question why they had stopped, he saw the reason, and a small gasp escaped him. In the middle of a couple of stern looking Swedish soldiers stood Tavastia, looking like he didn't have a care in the world.

Finland managed to take a couple of steps towards his brother, until he realised it wasn't perhaps the best course of action. He quickly turned around to look at Sweden. Sweden had been looking at him as well, but just as their eyes met, the taller nation tore his gaze away.

"Say your goodbyes", Sweden said, looking anywhere but Finland, "you won't be seeing him for a while. The soldiers will be listening in, just in case… They'll escort you to the ship when you're done …I'll see you there".

At that, he turned around and fled the scene. Finland didn't lose any time after dismissal, and threw himself in the arms if Tavastia.

"Good God, Suomi, needy much?" Tavastia said, hugging back his brother all the same.

"I thought you were going to die!" Finland gasped, and much to his embarrassment, he started to cry.

"Hush, little brother. I wasn't going die, nations can't die, remember?"

But they could, and they both very well knew it. Finland let go of the other, still hiccupping, trying to stop his sniffling, feeling quite mortified about blubbering in front of the guards.

"I'm not even going to even have a proper punishment. All I have to do is keep to myself in Häme, and that's no punishment at all! I feel like we got away with murder."

"I'm glad."

"No, I'm one who's glad. That big troll also said I had you to thank for that, as he would've thrown me in the deepest cell pit and thrown away the key!"

Finland couldn't help it, that small mention of Sweden made him all emotional yet again and he burst into tears. Tavastia seemed quite bemused at that.

"Suomi? Are you alright? He didn't hurt you instead or anything?" he asked worriedly, which was very out of character of him.

"No, no, everything's alright, I swear…"

"Really? You don't look like you're alright to me. I mean, you're sobbing your eyes out…"

Finland took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. It was mainly the great relief that made him act this way – that, and his lack of sleep. He smiled at Tavastia through his tears.

"I'm alright. And I'm glad you're going to be alright."

Tavastia smiled for the first time, and like always, that smile managed to transform his usually so stern and angry face into likable and bright one.

"That's the spirit", he said. "That's what I want to hear, not all that sad stuff."

"But we're not going to see each other for a long time…"

And just as quickly the smile had come, it also went away. His brother's face twisted into its usual anger and contempt.

"I'd really like to see him try to keep us a part. I can raise an army in few months with a help from Poland. We can be free of that mute idiot by the next spring."

"Are you mad?" Finland hissed. "The guards are hearing all of this, they'll report you to Sweden quicker than you can say: 'busted!'"

"Hah, like those idiots can understand Finnish."

A quick glance towards the soldiers, and the barely concealed anger on their faces confirmed to Finland that those 'idiots' did in fact know Finnish. This had got to stop! They had fought and lost, but Tavastia was not willing to accept defeat.

"Listen to me! You have to give up! Don't make our losses greater than what they need to be!"

"We might've lost the battle, but not the war!"

"Please Häme, think of your people, our people. Sweden will not forgive them twice!"

Tavastia's face flushed with shear rage, and for a short moment he couldn't get a single word out.

"You really want to talk to me about _our_ people? Where were you last winter when they starved and had to eat bread made from wood bark? Where were you when the Russians attacked the coastal towns? Where were you? With Sweden! No doubt eating cakes and biscuits while _our_ people died like flies!"

"I did not eat cakes and biscuits!" Finland said, now starting to get angry too. "It was a hard winter also in Sweden!"

"Did they die from famine, too? Were there hundreds of dead Swedes?"

Finland glared at Tavastia. He wanted to argue, but in truth, there wasn't much he could say. While he had not lied about the difficulties of the last winter, he also had not seen any victims of famine or war in Sweden. He had not even known there had been a famine back home!

…But now that he thought about it some more, it did seem to explain the abrupt but extreme bouts of pain he had suffered troughout the winter.

"I felt them", Finland said, wanting – no, _needing_ to explain to his brother he had not been entirely unaffected. "The deaths. I felt them as pain, as illness. I felt every single death…"

"And you did nothing to stop them!"

They stared at each other, the silence only broken by Tavastia's angry huffs of breath.

Finland's heart filled with sadness, it was clear that he and his brother weren't going settle on this matter. He took in Tavastia's features, memorising them in case this truly was the moment of their final goodbye. His brother looked so much like himself; it was like looking in a slightly distorted mirror. Even if he had a shade darker hair and the colour of his eyes was a little lighter than Finland's, the biggest differences between them would always be their natures. Finland didn't know were his brother's anger came from, or why he was constantly plagued by it, but what he did know was that he would not let his brother destroy this beloved land of theirs just because he hadn't learned to let things _go_. It was better to swallow your own pride and live to see another day.

Finland opened his mouth, even if knew what he was about to say would probably poison his relationship with Tavastia for years to come.

"I can't stop you, if you want to destroy yourself, but know this: I am this whole land now. Häme may follow to you still, but Pohjanmaa, Satakunta, Uusimaa, Karjala and Suomi will not. If you want to go to war, you'll have to do it alone."

Tavastia's face first turned very pale from the words of his brother, then just as quickly his face was again reddened by anger.

"It shouldn't surprise me anymore that you'd rather choose a guy who raided and devastated your land and took away your say in the matters over your own flesh and blood, but it kind of does, every time! But maybe it's because we're so different, maybe you actually enjoy being his _bitch_ ".

Tavastia's vile words were meant to hurt Finland, and make him angry. Instead of anger, though, Finland only felt pity towards the other land.

"Goodbye Häme. I'll miss you."

"Oh, go and jump into a moat!"

And with that, Finland turned his back to his brother and walked out his castle. He was sad that they would part on bad terms, but the most important thing was that his brother was safe, and would remain so.

Even so, his heart felt heavy. He didn't like to admit it, but Tavastia's words had hurt him, because they were true. Not that he enjoyed Sweden's command over him, but the fact that he hadn't done enough for his people. He had let them down, too absorbed in his own problems to try to figure out a way to make life better back home.

But it was going to change from now on. He would find a way to sway Sweden to take better care the land he owned. Finland was ready to travel back to Stockholm.

* * *

Finland had been relieved when he had realised that the boat they would be travelling on was a cog, a fast and agile small ship, with a minimal crew. He had feared that they would cross the sea with the troops.

But on a small ship it was also hard to avoid another person, and so after he had spent an hour or two watching the archipelago go by, he had to go below the deck. The captain of the ship had generously given Sweden his own cabin, and it also appeared to be the only proper cabin on this small vessel. Finland didn't exactly have a choice where to sleep, so he had to contain his nerves. He knocked on the door, and after he heard a muted 'come in', he opened the door and stepped into the cabin.

The cabin was small, but tidy. There was very little in the way of furnishing, only a narrow bed, a small desk and a cupboard. Sweden was sitting behind the desk, while the desk was littered by stacks of parchment. He clearly had been working, and he was just about to put the quill away.

"No, don't mind me, really, do your work", Finland tried to persuade, but Sweden just shook his head while he continued packing his things away.

"We need to talk", Sweden said at last, "sit down".

There wasn't anywhere else to sit but the bed and the chair, and since the chair was already claimed by the taller nation, Finland swiftly made his way to the bed.

"I know what you talked about", Sweden began, evidently uncomfortable to be talking about this with Finland, "…with Tavastland, I mean".

Like he really needed to elaborate.

"He didn't really mean what he said, not in the way it must've sounded. He won't be raising a rebellion again, I promise!" Finland babbled. For a frightening minute he could imagine how Tavastia's words might have made Sweden consider again his generous forgiveness. But just Finland started to panic, Sweden shook his head again.

"No, he meant them. But he can't do anything too damaging without you. And you chose me."

Finland felt himself blushing. Thankfully Sweden wasn't looking at him.

"Ah, well, yes. It was the right thing to do, right thing for the people, I mean."

Sweden nodded absent-mindedly, like he was hearing exactly what he expected to hear. When he didn't say anything else, Finland concluded he had just wanted a reassurance from him about what he learned earlier. Their little discussion might have been enough to Sweden, but Finland felt there was a world of subjects they still needed to go through.

"Thank you", Finland began, and Sweden locked his eyes on him. "…For what you did for Tavast. He probably doesn't appreciate it enough to thank you himself, but I do."

"Why did you do it, Finland?" Sweden asked then, his voice sounding pained and hoarse.

"What?" Finland asked, startled by this sudden change of subject.

"Why did you go against our plans? Why did go on Sigismund's side with Tavastland?"

"They… they never were 'our' plans. You ordered me to do them. I thought Sigismund was a better choice for my people…"

"They're _our_ people, Tino."

"Yes… They are our people, but there are also my people and your people, you see?"

"Not really", Sweden said, his expression darkening. Finland sighed, frustrated by the taller nation's stubbornness.

"It's just… I haven't exactly been excluded in the decision making, have I? Sometimes my people have needs you aren't always aware of, Sve. I'm their land, but still you never ask my opinion about anything, ever."

Sweden frowned, and did not answer. The silence stretched on, making Finland nervous he had once again crossed the line. Not bearing the silence anymore, Finland tried to change subject.

"Not that you need to, of course! It was just something I was wondering… I am sorry for going against you, it won't happen again, that I can promise, Sve.

"I just wanted to thank you how treated us, even if we kind of didn't deserve it", Finland babbled on nervously. Sweden's lack of respond felt really ominous to him.

"Tavast said you had said to him, that I was to thank for his fate. So thank you, even if I didn't actually do anything last night."

 _Oops, don't go there_ , Finland thought, and blushed again.

"I mean, I'm sorry about that too, I shouldn't made that demand like that, not when we were going to…"

"Finland!"

"Right, I'll shut up now, sorry", Finland promised, now completely embarrassed. At least the Swede was shaken from his deep, dark thought by shear mortification. But when their eyes locked again, it wasn't an embarrassment marring Sweden's face, it was pain.

"Last night… It can't happen again, not like that…"

And Finland nodded, ready to agree to anything to make that pained expression on Sweden's face to go away.

"I'll promise", Finland said, truly meaning it, even if he couldn't meet the taller nation's eyes. "I'm sorry about it, I didn't think at all, I just thought you wanted … but it was stupid, and it won't happen again".

"Finland, look at me", Sweden said, his voice so raw Finland couldn't help but to drag his gaze back up to meet the eyes of the other nation.

"Finland… Tino. You can always ask if you need me to do something, you don't need to… You don't need do anything _for_ it."

"I understand, Sve. I'm sorry", Finland whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Don't be. Not your fault."

It seemed Sweden had used all his courage for this conversation. He seemed to slump in his seat, his eyes returning to stare at anything but his companion on the bed. But the look on face wasn't pained anymore, just a bit sad.

Despite all that had happened, Finland felt a bit sorry for him.

Sweden didn't continue working, but instead he took off his glasses and put them carefully on the small table. Then he pressed the tips of his fingers against the bridge of his nose. Finland knew what those careful gestures meant.

"Headache?" he asked weakly, in case Sweden rather he didn't speak.

"Hhmph", Sweden said. Finland translated that as 'yes'.

"You should go to sleep then", he said, now with little bit more courage.

Sweden didn't say anything back, but he did nod and close his eyes, and then he fidgeted in his seat, seeking for more comfortable position.

Finland could not believe his eyes. Now Sweden was willing to let him have the bed all for himself? Now, after a hundred years, after he had long since given up any hope for ever getting to sleep alone? Now, when Finland had vowed to himself never be kept in dark again in the same way? Well, this certainly would not fly.

In a moment of rash decision he leaned forward to capture Sweden's hand for his own. It startled the other nation, making him to look at the Finn with confusion.

"Come", Finland said, nudging the hand to make the other to join the bed with him.

"Finland, what are you doing…" Sweden asked, his voice filled with caution, but still doing like the other nation wanted, and sat down on the bed with him.

"I won't let you sleep on a _chair_. Now come on and lie down."

Sweden nodded slowly, eyes still wide. The bed was narrow, and to fit, they had to lay side by side, very close to each other. By time they both had settled down, they were practically hugging each other. At first Sweden was rigid, but after a while he relaxed, letting loose a content sigh.

It was a bit awkward for them both. But when Finland sneaked a peak at Sweden, and he didn't look half as sad anymore, and that made Finland happy as well. For the first time in ages he could think that things might return back to normal between them, with time. And time – luckily – was a thing they still had plenty.

* * *

The events in Turku were just a prelude to a civil war. The war of Swedish succession lasted for years, and drove every corner of the nation into more conflicts and confrontations. After numerous tries and failures, Duke Karl at last managed to tip the scale in his favour, and in 1604 he was crowned as the king Karl IX of Sweden.

In the end, he didn't get much time to enjoy the power he had for so long coveted. Only seven years later he died, leaving the throne to his son, Gustav Adolf.


	14. The Rise of an Empire

Estonia sighed and rubbed his eyes. It was becoming too dark to see his papers and ledgers, and he finally decided it was the time to stop working. He didn't want to waste candles when it wasn't absolutely necessary. He if anyone knew how precarious their supply lines were, no matter what the generals liked to imagine.

Estonia stood up and stretched his stiff muscles. This was about the only daily exercise he got these days, the morning walk from the tent he slept in to this tent where he worked, and then back again in the evening.

The writers always described the war either as a hellish nightmare or a never-ending field of glory. Estonia huffed. For the victims of war, it was always the former. For the soldiers, it sure had the potential to be both. But no author ever described how boring it was for the people who never saw the battle fields, but who tirelessly worked to keep the forces clothed, fed and armed.

Estonia neatly packed the papers away and stepped outside.

Even in the dusk it was as awe-inspiring as ever to see the size of the camp. It was truly mind-boggling how Sweden, a sparsely populated nation on the fringes of Europe had suddenly become one of the most powerful countries in the continent.

Though, Estonia had to remind himself that it wasn't due to some unique quality of Sweden, per se. No, Sweden's recent success had more to do with the misfortune of others rather than his own merits.

The war that had torn Europe in half had lasted for more than a decade before Sweden had found enough incentive to join, and at that point, the war had already lasted long enough to leave the most participants either heavily weakened or utterly ruined.

Still, Estonia could only admire how quickly Sweden had managed to turn things around to even consider taking part in a conflict that had crippled far more resourceful nations. And the tall Northern nation had done all this despite the bitter civil war only a few decades ago, despite the fact that the person Sweden had backed on the throne had turned to be not only an incompetent ruler, but also a difficult personality. Estonia was sure Karl IX would be remembered as a cruel, ungenerous and vindictive person and his reign not much better. It had been a blessing in a disguise when the king had suddenly died, and his son Gustav II Adolf had followed him on the Swedish throne at the tender age of seventeen.

The young king had inherited a war torn and ailing state, a nation on the brink of collapse. It was nothing short of a miracle they now were where they were, challenging the great powers of Europe. And yet… the king was only a part of Sweden's recent success.

The young king had proved himself a brilliant strategist and a great general, both of which had of course been vital skills, for his father had waged war with nearly every neighbouring country, often at the same time. Yet unlike his father, Gustav II Adolf had won the most of his battles and cemented the status of Sweden as an emerging power.

But the brash and brave king was only the façade of the nation. What really made the difference was the person behind the screens.

Even if Count Axel Oxenstierna would not agree, Estonia couldn't help but feel a bit familiarity with a fellow pencil pusher. And it truly was the High Chancellor Oxenstierna's statesmanship – as much as the king's talent in war – that helped to put Sweden on the map.

And now Sweden truly was on everyone's lips, having been branded as the defender of the faith as he was. Because that was what this war was supposed to be about: faith.

No, _true_ faith.

A sneer crept its way onto Estonia's face, one he could've not kept away even if he had tried.

In truth, this war was a travesty, a perfect example of what was bound to happen when a weak, disinterested ruler allowed his vassal lords and princes to run amok and squabble like children. It was nothing short of a miracle that the Holy Roman Empire still stood, despite it all. Not that there was anything holy left of this land now; the warring factions and the religious fanatics had seen to that.

So wrecked were the counties and principalities in this poor, poor nation state that when the foreign nations had swooped down on to 'rescue' them in the name of _true faith,_ no one had batted an eye. Not even when they had foregone all the pretences of higher moral ground and started to chip away parts of Holy Roman Empire as imbursements or as trophies.

And that was what this whole conflict really boiled down to: who could steal the most?

Estonia sighed. He understood all this, maybe better than most people. He wanted to feel that what they were doing was wrong, but truthfully he could not. It was such a relief to be on the powerful side, the winning side. He also knew himself well enough to know he wasn't enough of a good person to not to feel a certain amount of vindication when it was the Germans who were the victims of plundering and looting for a change.

Suddenly he saw Finland and Sweden walking side by side through the camp, the former waving his hands excitedly back and forth and chatting animatedly like he was trying to explain something very exhilarating to his companion. Sweden smiled slightly and nodded at right intervals, but Estonia could see that his attention was more focused of staring at his younger cohort than it was to actually listening what he had to say.

They were a curious pair: one tall and regal, looking like a high-born general dressed in the well-tailored clothes and a gleaming breastplate as he was. And other one short and rather plain, donning a rustic leather tunic instead of an actual armour like a peasant made soldier. And yet it was the plain old Finland who held the absolute attention of his liege lord with no more than a smile and a simple story.

Estonia rolled his eyes. Sweden's infatuation could not be more obvious even if he tried. And frankly, Estonia had no stomach for it now. He ducked behind a tent so the pair wouldn't see him. Not that they usually sought out his company but he didn't want to risk it. Estonia wanted nothing more than to quickly make his way back to his tent and get his much needed rest. Tomorrow would be exhausting enough as it was without attracting Sweden's attention and potentially getting even more tasks.

Tomorrow, they would march to intercept the Catholic army. According to the scout reports, the Catholics had started to withdraw towards Leipzig ever since the first snow fell, probably believing that the Protestant army would seize all acts of war for the winter. A disbelieving titter had run its course through the camp after that particular piece of news. Weak Southerners, the soldiers had mocked, running from the light sprinkle of snow and the first sight of slush and muddy roads.

"…but then I had to have a stern word with Savage Stomper. 'You're a warhorse, now' I said. 'You can't think with your stomach all the time.'" Finland's chipper voice interrupted Estonia's thoughts and he almost snorted. Only Finland would call his little mare a warhorse. Savage Stomper ( _what a ridiculous name_ , Estonia thought) was like any Northern workhorse: small and stout, but hardy and reliable, and loyal to a fault. It was just that no-one in their right mind would compare her to a real bred and trained warhorse.

And yet, no-one would dare to laugh at the Finnish cavalry anymore, either. They rode their little shaggy workhorses – barely taller than ponies – they had brought from home, wore no armour other than leather tunics and perhaps helmets, armed themselves with swords, cutlasses or anything they could get their hands on. In short, compared to the professional soldiers and the German and the Scottish mercenaries, they looked ridiculously underwhelming. But when they rode on the battlefield and made their sudden, swift and savage attacks, laughing was probably the last thing coming to anyone's mind.

Most of their renowned battle prowess was probably just a side effect of them being a peasant army. Mercenaries maintained a rigid honour code towards their colleagues, out of self-preservation. A mercenary could never know if an enemy of today would be an ally of tomorrow, so the best course of action would be to not to give them any reason to stab you in the back if such day came. But most of Swedish troops were made up from free men, who fought not for money but for their king and country, so they needed not consider the enemy as anything else but a thing to exterminate. And thus their savage reputation was born.

"…but she does fight better when I promise her few extra handfuls of oats for good work, so maybe…"

When Finland and Sweden had walked past him and were out of an earshot, Estonia came out of hiding.

 _That's weird_ , he thought as he stared at the backs of the pair, _what are they doing here, at this hour?_ Their tent was on the other side of the camp, just as Estonia's was. And yet they were clearly going to the opposite direction. Had the plans changed, or why else would they walk towards the command tent? Estonia sighed. No rest for the wicked, then. With a one longing glance at the direction where he knew his own tent and the rest awaited him, Estonia set to follow Finland and Sweden.

The flap of the very same tent he had left not ten minutes ago was slightly ajar, telling Estonia where exactly the pair had disappeared to. He stalled for a second, but then braced his mind and raised the flap to slip inside. The sight that assaulted his eyes made him freeze on the spot.

The time itself seemed to stop. Finland and Sweden stood before the desk very close to each other. One of Sweden's hands held Finland's wrist, and other one caressed the younger nation's cheek. In horror, Estonia realised Sweden was gently nudging Finland's chin upwards at the same time he was leaning down. They were only seconds away from kissing, and as soon as this realisation reached Estonia's brain, it was like his heart had been pierced, and he gasped aloud.

The spell broke. Both Sweden and Finland glanced at the doorway, and then the smaller nation flushed bright red and jumped away from the other land.

"I… I n-need to go bed. Yes. Now!" Finland stammered, and brushed past Estonia with such a determination to escape the situation that he almost knocked Estonia down in his haste.

Sweden was left standing alone, an arm raised and mouth open to say something, probably to make Finland stay, yet no words came. He closed his mouth and glanced at his arms, blinking slowly, like he couldn't quite understand how things went from him holding Finland one moment to him suddenly being left behind the next. Then his eyes found Estonia again, and they narrowed dangerously.

"I… Bed! Yes!" Estonia exclaimed hastily with a nervous laugh and vaguely pointed at outside as he rushed to leave, deciding that Finland had had the right idea after all. He wasn't about to stay to learn what Sweden had thought about his interruption.

So Estonia crossed the camp again, this time briskly and glancing behind him every now and then, afraid that Sweden would be following. He told himself he was acting like a fool; Sweden wasn't the kind of person who took petty revenges on his underlings, especially over something this silly. But still he couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief when he reached his tent. He stepped inside and hurried to close the tent flaps.

"You don't mind if I stay here for a while?"

Estonia shrieked. There was no other way to describe the noise that escaped his throat. What's worse, it was a very high-pitched shriek. Heart pounding, Estonia turned around to see Finland sitting on his cot bed.

"Sorry", the shorter land said abashed, "didn't mean to scare you. I just – I couldn't go back to our – I mean _my_ tent yet."

Estonia just nodded, not trusting his voice. His heart raced like it tried its very best to jump out of his chest. Slightly gasping – but trying his best to hide it – Estonia sat down on the bed, next to Finland, and tried to get his breath under control.

They sat side by side, silent – other than Estonia's light panting that is – deep in thought. Just as Estonia started to gather his bearings, his thoughts inevitably jumped to what he had witnessed only few moments ago: Finland and Sweden mere seconds away from kissing. He felt a pang in his heart and glanced at Finland. His friend was staring at his hands and looked morose. Not to mention he was sitting here – in Estonia's tent – instead of going back to Sweden's. It made him feel slightly better, but still, he had to know what was going on between those two.

"So… You and Sweden, are you… _together_ , now?" Estonia asked and no matter how hard he tried to keep his voice light and at ease, some amount of bitterness and jealousy was seeping through. This much was apparent, even to his own ears.

"No! I mean… I don't know", Finland croaked. He sounded unsure, like he was little lost.

"Well, perhaps you should _think_ about it some and make up your mind then, because from what I saw, things were leading to exactly that", Estonia briskly told the shorter land.

"Why are you getting angry?" Finland whispered, blinking hard like he was trying his very best to keep a well of tears away.

 _Because I love you, you fool!_ Estonia almost said aloud, but managed to bite his lip and keep himself silent. Finland was looking at him like a confused, kicked puppy, like he was simply unable to understand why Estonia was acting like this.

Estonia sighed, trying to calm himself. He wasn't being fair to Finland. I was just that… In his day dreams, he would dream about a world where they both were free from the needs and the wants of the others, free to do what they wanted. And in those dreams, Finland would reach for him – on his own, without any prompting – and tell him about his feelings, about how he had always loved Estonia above anyone else…

Estonia put a stop to those thoughts and shook his head to clear his thoughts. It had been a nice dream, but it was wrong of Estonia to punish Finland for acting differently from the role he had written for him in his head. After all, had he ever told the other land how he felt? How he had loved his dearest friend from the first moment he had laid eyes on him?

No, he had not. Estonia had remained silent, confident that Finland would someday wake up and realise he loved Estonia as much the other land already loved him.

 _No_ , Estonia thought, _that's not all there is to this. I didn't tell him because I'm a coward and fearful of rejection. I didn't tell him because I feared Sweden would think me as a competition and try to get rid of me. I didn't tell him because I wanted to win his heart without any effort, to prove I could win against Sweden without even playing the game…_

Estonia turned to look at Finland whose head was downcast and his whole demeanour screamed defeat. At this angle, Estonia couldn't see if Finland had lost his battle against the tears, but every now and then he could hear him sniffle; quietly though, like he was trying to hide it from his friend.

Estonia sighed again, suddenly ashamed. Who was he to judge Finland, really? If their roles were reversed, and a powerful nation doted upon him, Estonia certainly would not let the opportunity to go to waste. And Sweden wasn't a bad person, not as far as countries of his calibre go. Estonia had to concede that the tall Northern nation might even love Finland, in his own way.

Yes, Sweden might love Finland, but Estonia figured his definition of love probably was a tad different. What Estonia wanted more than anything was Finland's happiness. Oh, he definitely fantasised about more carnal and selfish things, too, but they were secondary to the wish that someday his friend could be happy, safe and free. But as far as Estonia had observed, this was not the case with Sweden, who was certainly more concerned with what _he_ thought Finland's wants and needs ought to be rather than what the younger nation actually cared about.

"I'm not mad at you", Estonia said, at last, trying to keep his voice neutral at the very least. "But you have to think this through. Promise me you will, before you decide to… _do_ anything, will you?"

Finland didn't answer, other than blushing bright red.

But that wasn't good enough for Estonia. He needed to get his point through. Gently, not wanting to startle the other nation, but still firmly – to show he meant business – Estonia grabbed Finland's arm and yanked it – not hard enough to hurt, but with an enough force that the other land raised his eyes. It surprised him a little to note that they were actually free of tears. Estonia looked deep into his eyes, willing the other nation to listen.

"Soome, you have to promise me you'll think about this! No matter how you feel about Sweden, you have to think more than yourself, more than just what _you_ want."

Estonia felt like he was the biggest hypocrite in the whole wide world. Had he not just dreamed they could be free to act on their own desires? And here he was, telling his friend to act exactly opposite. He quickly squandered those thoughts. What he was about to do was for the best. It was the right thing to do.

"If you want to… err…well…" Estonia stammered and blushed, but quickly stomped his embarrassment to the ground and gathered his wits, "you know… _deepen_ your relationship with Sweden, you have to make sure you and your people at least benefit from it."

Finland, who had lost all of his previous colour, stared at Estonia like he had trouble understanding what the other nation was talking about.

"What are you saying? No, I can't – I _won't_. I promised Sweden – "

But Estonia didn't let him finish his sentence and tell what exactly he had promised. The bespectacled nation hushed his friend.

"You have to realise the position you're in. You have something that Sweden wants. Or rather, you _are someone_ Sweden wants."

Finland's eyes widened comically wide and an involuntary gasp escaped his mouth. He looked like the very image of someone whose dearest wish was that the earth would swallow him whole. Estonia ignored him, and continued his one-sided rant.

"It doesn't matter if the thing he craves is your companionship, your love, or your body. He clearly wants something only you can _give_. If he only wanted something he could have by force, he would have taken it ages ago."

Finland rasped out something unintelligible, probably meant as an objection. Estonia didn't let him have a chance to collect his thoughts to argue.

"It doesn't matter if _you_ love him or not. What it does mean is that you have the upper hand in all of this. The upper hand you _must_ use if you wish to continue any further."

They still stood only an arms-length away from each other, gazes locked. But there wasn't any confusion or embarrassment in Finland's eyes anymore; it had been replaces by an understanding and something else that made his gaze much more hard and steely.

"So, what you mean to say is I should sell myself, is that right?" Finland asked, and his voice was raw with emotion, even if Estonia could not quite tell what that emotion was. Finland was flustered, and he lowered his eyes like he didn't quite have the courage to see how Estonia would react to his words. "…Sell myself for the highest prize I can get like I was some common… _w-whore_?"

"Soome…" Estonia whispered. No, he hadn't meant to imply anything like that. He removed his hand from his friend's arm and gently placed it under Finland's jaw to lift his head. Finland's eyes were red, but there still were no tears. Instead, he looked angry and offended.

"I'm sorry! It came out all wrong. I didn't mean to hurt you", Estonia whispered and let go of his friend only to wrap him into his arms. Finland yelped, surprised. But after a while, Finland's rigid posture relaxed and he hugged Estonia back.

"I know…"

"You know I don't say these things just to hurt your feelings" Estonia continued and he hugged his friend more fiercely to show how serious he was. Estonia felt Finland's grip on the back of his shirt tighten in response.

"I _know_ …"

"I say them because I care, because I want what's best for you! I don't want to see you hurt. I don't want to see you used and then cast aside!"

They sat in silence for a few seconds.

"You don't _have_ to do anything, you know? You could just tell him you want to be his friend and nothing more…" Estonia took a tiny pause to collect his thought and to keep his voice from shaking. Oh, how he wished Finland would take that piece of advice to the heart. But Finland didn't exactly leap at the chance. Estonia's heart plummeted. No matter how much his friend would protest at the suggestion he might like Sweden, this silence spoke volumes.

Estonia let go of Finland and looked at him, really looked at him. Finland watched him back, still unspoken but eyes wide, clearly quite baffled why Estonia was acting the way he was and what had prompted this peculiar discussion.

Estonia braced his mind. So be it then. If Finland was about to follow his heart despite the fact that all signs pointed out it would probably end with someone getting hurt, then all Estonia wanted was to make sure that someone wouldn't be Finland.

"I know how much you hate being called his wife, but… would that be so bad, all things considered?" Estonia said, even if his words made his own heart ache.

When Finland didn't answer, Estonia continued with a shaky voice.

"Being a wife would mean being the other half. Still under his control, still not exactly an equal, but surely it'd be better than to be an underling with no say?"

For a while, Finland was quiet, deep in thought. Then he snorted, as if Estonia's words had been meant as mockery instead of advice.

"Be serious! I'm a land, and _a man_. I can't _marry_ him, no matter what" Finland said with a little laugh, trying his very best to sound flippant and nonchalant but failing spectacularly.

"Not in the eyes of the church, or even the law", Estonia had to admit. "But things work a bit different as far as our kind is concerned. You tell Sweden you want to marry him, and I bet he would run through a solid rock to make it happen, somehow" Estonia countered, feeling quite certain what he said was the truth.

Another silence followed. Finland had turned his head away, so Estonia couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"I suppose…" Finland whispered at last, but his voice was oddly hollow. Then he abruptly looked at Estonia with big, pleading eyes: the eyes that Estonia had always found himself to be completely defenceless against.

"Can I sleep here tonight? It's just that… I don't think I'm ready to go back, not just yet… And I promise I won't take much room! I can sleep on the ground if you like."

Estonia was first startled by the plea but quickly recovered. He smiled at Finland, happy that his friend still wanted to stay with him despite the conversation they had just had.

"Don't be ridiculous! Like I'd make you sleep on the ground. Of course you can sleep here. But what about…?"

Estonia didn't know how to tactfully ask if Sweden would let Finland sleep anywhere else but in his own bed. As far as Estonia knew, they had shared a bed for centuries now. But Estonia really needed not to clarify. Finland understood what he was asking.

"Don't worry about it, it's fine", Finland said a bit tersely. But then he smiled and suddenly it was like nothing had happened at all. He looked like a weight had been lifted off of him, untroubled and cheerful like the same old Finland Estonia had known and loved all these years.

"Thank you, Viro", he added with a gentle smile.

Estonia just nodded, not really sure why his breath suddenly hitched in his throat.

They lay down on the cot, side by side, without bothering to change clothes. They would have to get up well before the dawn, so it seemed like a waste of energy. Of course it was also always a possibility that Sweden would come searching for Finland, which naturally affected that decision, even if neither of them would admit it aloud.

They wished their goodnights, and Estonia covered them with a heavy quilt. Finland's breathing evened out in mere minutes and he fell asleep. Estonia felt a twinge of envy at that. Even as exhausted as he was, could not silence his thoughts long enough to get the rest he desperately needed. His brain was torturing him, the almost-kiss flashing in his mind every time he closed his eyes.

He glanced at Finland, who looked much younger in his sleep, almost too innocent. Estonia couldn't understand when his and Sweden's relationship had taken these last turns. In fact, ever since the fateful rebellion Finland had taken part in, their relationship had seemed been changed but certainly not for the better. Sweden had been more distant and slower to trust. Finland on the other hand, had been unusually silent, meek and obedient, ready to apologise if Sweden even looked at him funny (which incidentally happened quite often).

Now that Estonia thought about it some more, it probably was the very same decision which had brought them here – in the middle of this chaotic war zone – that also had mended the fractured relationship of his Northern neighbours.

Sweden, it seemed, had finally realised that being idle was not exactly Finland's forte. Estonia snorted. He could have told Sweden that little fact ages ago. Then he snorted again when his mind conjured up an image of Sweden on his knees, begging Estonia of advice on how to woo Finland. His giggles made the flimsy cot bed shook slightly. Finland let out a slight sound of protest and turned his back to the racket. Estonia promptly forced himself to calm down again. Thankfully, his little fit of giggles had not actually woken Finland up.

But the answer to his earlier question might be as simple as the initial thought he had. Sweden, after decades or even centuries of pushing Finland behind his back in the name of protecting him was finally trying to include him. And as simple as that, it seemed to have worked.

Estonia glanced at his friend again, but this time only saw his back. Estonia turned on his side, too, and pressed his body as close to his friend as he dared without rousing him. He realised how unintentionally comical his situation was. There he was, lying side by side with the boy he had loved through all these years, but getting close to him wasn't as easy as it would be to close the tiny physical gap between them right now. They were separated by far too greater rifts, and Finland's budding feelings towards Sweden certainly weren't the smallest of them.

For the time being, Estonia settled for pressing his face close to the nape of the other land and taking deep breath. Truthfully, it wasn't exactly a nice smell. They were after all in the middle of a war and they had not had a chance to bath in weeks. But still, under the smell of horses and sweat was the same familiar smell that had always reminded him of warm summer meadows, the smell that was undoubtedly Finland. Estonia closed his eyes and relaxed, at last.

He wasn't quite sure when he had finally fallen asleep, but he did wake to the sounds of hustle and bustle of camp-full of soldiers and servants getting ready to leave. It must have been close to the dawn already. He shook Finland's arm.

"Wake up, it's time."

Finland opened his bleary eyes and looked just about as well-rested as Estonia felt like. That is, not very. Grudgingly they both got up and started to pack things up. It took them next to no time, since Estonia was habitually a very tidy person.

"Well, I guess I should leave and try to find Sve", Finland said, but didn't sound very excited about the prospect.

Estonia nodded. He knew Finland would have to seek out Sweden to get his orders for today, but still, he couldn't help but feel a tiny twinge in his heart when he heard those words.

"We must all do what we must", Estonia said and immediately winced at how haughty and passive-aggressive he sounded.

"Ermh, right", Finland said, now sounding a bit taken back. "See you later, then."

Estonia wanted to cringe at his own behaviour. Here he was, blowing hot and cold on his friend and acting all prickly for a mere mention that Finland might go back to Sweden when the other land didn't really have much choice in the matter. Not to even mention that Finland was about to ride into battle with the troops in just few hours, and all Estonia seemed to care about was his own incredibly contradictory feelings.

"Wait!" Estonia gasped and grasped Finland's arm. "You- you take care there, alright? Come back safe."

Finland turned to look at Estonia, and the smile on his face could have lit a room.

"You don't have to worry about me, Viro. I'm always careful!"

And Estonia couldn't help but smile back, even if the words by themselves did nothing to lessen his worries.

After Finland had left, Estonia followed him out and then went to his own duties. It was an hour past the dawn when the whole camp was ready to move. Estonia sat on his pack mule and noted that Finland had resumed his usual place riding right behind Sweden, like nothing had happened. He shook his head. It would have been foolish to expect something else. Finland was exactly where he was supposed to be, and mulling over it would just take Estonia's attention from his own duties: it was his job to make sure that the accounting books, maps, scouting reports and supply ledgers survived the journey. With a one last sigh, he set to do just that.

The march proceeded excruciatingly slowly. As much as the soldiers and the generals had mocked their enemies' unwillingness to go to war during the winter, Estonia had to grudgingly agree it would have been preferable to him, too. The muddy roads made their progress slow and the chill in the wind made them all miserable.

Their journey came to an end in the late evening, when the rumours travelled through the marchers that their vanguard had intercepted a small enemy force near Rippach stream. What ever the truth was in the matter, an order soon rang out that they would camp here for the night. It was surprising, since they were still so behind the planned schedule. It was still some stretch of the road to Lützen, and the enemy troops were probably well on their way to Leipzig by now.

As soon as Estonia had secured the documents for the night, he started his way to the command tent. He had no desire to see Sweden this soon, but he wanted to know what was going on. He slipped inside the tent only to find it absolutely bustling of people. Estonia immediately saw the king and Sweden in the centre of it all, with Finland standing quietly behind the taller land.

"…Our scouts all report the same, My Lord. The main army of the Catholics are on the move. They will reach this place before the morning. Even the smaller force we caught up to this evening is making defensive preparations", said one of commanders.

"I see", remarked the king. He was surprisingly soft spoken man when not bellowing commands in the midst of combat, and all the generals and commanders had to lean closer to hear his words. "Gentlemen, this is to be our battlefield then, come morning."

The atmosphere was oppressing and morose as the battle plans were formed. Their position was not ideal, far from it.

Finally the meeting was at the end and the king dismissed his commanders. Estonia slipped out as they did. He had gotten the information he had wanted, and now he wished to avoid Sweden more than anything.

Estonia quickly made his way to his tent. Servants had erected it while he had been gone and Estonia was grateful for it, for it was not something he took granted. Neither did the servants. Sometimes they were too busy, or simply deemed him too unimportant to see to his needs.

He spent the night tossing and turning in his bed, barely managing to nod off before the sounds of battle preparations woke him up again. His eyes felt heavy and the back of his head throbbed with pain. When he rose up and sat on the bunk bed, the pain flashed behind his eyes and almost made him throw up. It was just his luck that this particular morning would be one of _these_. For a while, he sat still, his head almost between his knees, and waited for the nausea to pass. Eventually it did. His head still hurt, but now it was manageable again, and not the kind that would make him pass out or vomit.

Though even if he did, he probably would not be the last one to do so today.

Estonia exited his tent and his already downed spirits became even more crushed. Even though he could hear the preparations were well underway, he couldn't see it. Everywhere he looked, he could only see a thick November fog covering absolutely everything in its drenching, encompassing embrace. It wasn't a rare occurrence in this time of the year, but it was one they could have lived without. This was bad. They already had a disadvantage over the terrain and now also over the weather. This day was slowly but surely going from bad to worse.

Estonia started to make his way towards the centre of the camp, in the hopes that he could be of assistance over there. Here, he could only sit in his tent and pray. And he wasn't exactly a praying kind.

It was difficult to navigate when he could not see more than a few measly meters before everything faded to the same hazy greyness, but thankfully the commanders barking orders gave him a vague sense of which direction to take. At last, he reached the familiar command tent.

He arrived just in time to see the king mounting his brown Oldenburg and getting ready to ride to the battle. Behind him on his own horse was Finland, looking like a child on a pony compared to the king and his tall and muscular, _actual_ warhorse. Behind Finland was the rest of the Finnish light cavalry. Estonia knew the king valued them, but he couldn't help but think it was madness for the king to ride in the battle with them. Firstly, he stuck out like a sore thumb. Anyone in their right mind could see that the king was someone important compared to the unkempt peasants-turned-soldiers. Secondly, the king was simply not needed in the front lines where the cavalry would be making their attack. Sure, it could raise the moral, but at what cost?

Sweden stood right next to the king's horse and seemed to be in a heated – yet quiet – conversation with the king. Estonia guessed that he wasn't so pleased about the king's rather brash decision, either.

But the king dismissed his arguments with a wave of his hand and gave out the order to the troops to march. Sweden watched them go. His face was as expressive as ever, but something in his demeanour gave away his feelings: he looked worried.

Estonia didn't blame him. He, too, had a bad feeling about this all.

Then Sweden noticed him and gestured for him to come closer. Estonia felt his heart skip a beat, but braced his mind and did as asked. Sweden looked at him with a cool, steady glance, and for a moment Estonia actually felt the tendrils of pure panic grip his heart. Then Sweden turned his gaze back to the foggy hills and the moment passed.

"Read and sort out the reports", Sweden said, eyes still fixed on the swirling mist covering the fields. His voice was oddly stiff, even for him.

Estonia just nodded, thankful for getting his commands so he could get away from Sweden. Who would have thought he could be so eager about reading some reports? But there you have it. So he entered the tent and got to work.

Sweden remained where he was, as if his will alone could make the fog disappear if he just stared at it hard enough.

At first, they couldn't see anything, they could only hear the bangs and flashes of guns and cannons and the frantic reports the messengers brought from the actual scene of battle. But as the morning grew brighter, the fog slowly started to disperse. It still lingered down in the valley, concealing much of the fight. But now at least they could see the enemy on the hillside.

But the mist wasn't the only thing pulling wool over their eyes that day. The nearby town of Lützen had been set on fire, and its smoke soon reached the battle. And just like that, they were once again left in the dark, basically to guess what was happening from the scarce reports. And it wasn't much to go on by. Estonia wasn't even sure if the town had been set on fire on purpose, or if it had been an accident. Nor was he sure who even was responsible for the act: them or the Imperial forces.

The hours crept on, but the fighting did not end. It was well past the noon when the messenger came, telling them that their attack on the centre had been a catastrophic failure and that their main force troops were on the brink of defeat.

Sweden swore aloud. Estonia was startled by the sound, but he was even more surprised when he realised that the other nation had started to dress for the battle. In a mere minute Sweden was ready to go, and he stepped outside. Estonia ran after him.

"You're going there?" he screamed after Sweden, even if it was pretty obvious what the other nation was about to do. He just couldn't believe Sweden would be willing to leave him in charge of the command centre.

Sweden just nodded without even looking at him and mounted his horse. Then he shouted few quick orders to his officers who ran to organise the remaining reserve. There weren't many of them, and most of them were slightly injured, left as a back-up for a reason.

"You want me to send a message to the king and Finland? If they can spare some troops?" Estonia asked.

Sweden looked at him, then. He didn't look worried.

"No. I'll handle this myself. Stick with the plan", he said, and gave the order to march. Estonia could only admire his confidence. He certainly didn't feel anything close to it himself.

So all that was left for Estonia to do was to sit in the tent and wait for the news. It was bound to be a long, tense wait. And it was. He didn't know exactly how long he had sat there when the first message came. It was a short one, and honestly, it didn't tell much. It simply said that Sweden's troops had flanked the enemy from the side, just in time. It still remained to be seen if it had been enough, or if it was too little, too late.

Estonia covered his eyes with his hand. He hated this, this waiting, when he couldn't do anything to help. He hadn't fought for some time now – and honestly, he still didn't feel any particular thrill for the battle itself. He just wished he could be there in the field where he could do something, _anything_.

Estonia couldn't tell how long it had been when the messenger finally came with the news about the main front. It certainly felt like it had been many long hours, but since there still was some day light left, it must have been only an hour or two. The message itself was brief. Sweden had successfully flanked the enemy forces, and had managed to drive them back. The end result had been a victory, albeit at the cost of many Protestant lives.

All in all, it started to look like they had won. It had been a close call, and they lost many good men, but they had won. Estonia allowed himself a sigh of relief. He exited the tent and took a deep breath. He would not go as far as to say that the air smelled fresh; far from in fact. He could smell the smoke and gunpowder, and something else, something sweet and pungent he really didn't want to think about. But compared to the air inside the tent, well, at least it wasn't still and stale.

They had won.

Estonia could feel the corners of his mouth slowly creeping upwards. Perhaps, with this victory, they at last leave this God forsaken land and go back to Sweden? He didn't dare to hope…

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden arrival of the troops. It was the light cavalry. Estonia's light smile erupted into full-blown grin and he run closer. Finland was bound to be there, to be there with them. And when Estonia would see him, he would wave until his friend saw, and…

Estonia stopped. Something was wrong. Nobody looked triumphant, or victorious, or even relieved. Nothing like soldiers usually did when the fighting was over and they realised they had managed to survive unscathed. Suddenly, Estonia felt dread.

Then he saw Finland, who was walking his horse, looking defeated. Every now and then he would rub the head or the mane of his mount like he was trying to calm her down. Though the gesture ended up looking more like he was trying to calm himself rather than his horse…

"Soome!" Estonia gasped and ran to him. Finland raised his head. His eyes were tired and red, and for a moment he seemed so out of it, it was like he didn't even recognise his friend.

Then Finland shook his head and forced a small smile on his face. Estonia grimaced. He hated when Finland was like this: when he thought that he should mask his feelings, his fears and doubts just so the people around him wouldn't worry. Estonia stepped closer until he was an arms reach away and took a hold of his friend's shoulder. Finland visibly recoiled. It was a small movement, but Estonia had seen him instinctively reach for his cutlass before he got his nerves under control.

Estonia let go of him. Damn it all, he should have remembered that adrenaline-filled feeling right after the battle. It took a while to get back to normal after fighting for your life. He certainly shouldn't have grabbed Finland so forcefully. But just as he was about to apologise, Finland beat him to it.

"I'm sorry. It's just a reflex", Finland said and his hollow, empty smile got bigger like a simple act like that could erase all unpleasantness around them. Estonia almost shuddered. He didn't want this. He didn't want Finland to think like he had to keep everything locked up behind a polite façade just for the sake of sparing Estonia's feelings. Slowly – so he wouldn't startle Finland again – he put his hands on his shoulders and waited until Finland looked back at him.

"You don't need to…" Estonia whispered, not quite sure how say what meant aloud, and instead looked deep into his friend's eyes, willing him to understand. "…Not for me, never."

Finland looked away and nodded. The awful, forced smile was gone, though, so even if Estonia's words had failed him, Finland seemed to have gotten the gist anyway. When Finland looked up again, his eyes still looked lost and his mouth formed a tight, grim line… But it was an honest expression, this time, and Estonia felt thankful for it. Finland had allowed him to see his true self and not that vaguely pleasant, agreeable mask he so easily presented to the world.

Estonia stepped closer and gently nudged the back of Finland's head until their foreheads touched. Finland wrapped his free hand – the one that wasn't holding the reigns – around Estonia's shoulders. It seemed to calm Finland, this familiar embrace they had done so often when they had still been just kids.

"What's wrong?" Estonia asked.

"The king. We noticed he was missing in the middle of our attack… Some of the men said they saw him riding behind the enemy lines… Then… There was chaos. I couldn't search for him, not during the fight! So I commanded my men to continue as planned. It was going well, we did everything they had told us to do. But then, at the end, we saw _his_ horse… Without its rider…"

Finland took a ragged breath and his shoulders slumped. Estonia squeezed his shoulder to show his sympathy, but didn't say anything.

"It was over. And Sve came, riding straight to me, asking where the king was… And, I could not say anything. I just… I just pointed at the field where we had last seen his horse…"

Finland was silent for a while. Then he continued, and his voice was shaking.

"You should've seen him, Viro. I've never seen him like that. He was… so lost."

"Where is Sweden now?" Estonia asked, his voice soft.

Finland shook his head. It took a few seconds for him to find his voice again.

"I don't know. Still there, I think. Still looking for the body", he whispered. He looked at Estonia then, like he asking his friend for an advice what to do next.

And for a second, Estonia allowed himself to dream he could tell Finland that Sweden would be fine on his own, and they could leave this bloody field and go back to Estonia's tent and finally get some well earned rest, wrapped up in each other. But Estonia knew this was not the right thing to do. Sweden was out there, alone and probably half mad for losing the ruler of his land, the one that had meant so much for him… And it certainly was not Estonia who could make this better.

"You should go to him", Estonia said with a deep sigh.

"I know", Finland said quietly. He didn't sound surprised, it more like he was hearing exactly what he thought he should be hearing – what he needed to hear. "I will."

When Finland looked at him for the last time, his eyes were full of emotions. He seemed sad and tired, and it seemed like he was sorry and thankful at the same time. Thankful for what, Estonia didn't even want to try starting to guess. With a last little smile – and this time it was real, albeit a tired one – Finland let go of him and got astride on his horse. He said his goodbyes with a little wave of his hand and then he rode to the direction where he had come.

And Estonia watched him go until he could see him no longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we see the birth of Swedish empire. So here's the battle of Lützen (1632), from Estonia's POV. Although it was technically a pyrrhic victory for the Protestants, it also marked a turning point in the Thirty Years' War (1618–1648), even if the peace at that point was still over a decade ahead. Not that that silly war actually had any winners. One historian called it a war that 'solved no problem' and was 'the outstanding example in European history of meaningless conflict'. I tend to agree.


	15. For You, Anything

So much had changed since that fateful battle in Lützen. It had only been less than two years, but life had changed considerably for the Swedish household. Mostly for the better, that much even Finland had to concede.

 

After the battle, they had finally left the Holy Roman Empire and returned home. And Finland had loved that they had returned to their manor house in the outskirts of Stockholm. He loved to be able to spend time with Ingria, Karelia and Latvia who now lived in the house with them.

 

But life was not perfect, far from it... Something in Sweden had changed in that fateful moment he had found the body of his beloved king amongst the other remains.

 

Sweden had changed. Finland honestly couldn’t say if it was for better or for worse. Things were simply… different.

 

Gustavus Adolphus had one heir. A little girl called Christina. And Christina was undoubtedly… different. When she had been born, she had been so hairy that the court ladies had announced that the king had born a proper heir, a son. But they had been wrong, and so they had to announce the truth; the heir was a girl. The King of Sweden at the time, Gustaf Adolf, had only said in retort, happily: “She'll be clever; she has made fools of us all”.

 

And she had admired him almost as much as he admired her. Even from the birth, she was recognized as the heir of the throne of Sweden, and later as Queen of the Swedes, Goths and Wends, Grand Princess of Finland, and Duchess of Estonia, Livonia and Karelia, Bremen-Verden, Stettin, Pomerania, Cassubia and Vandalia, Princess of Rugia, Lady of Ingria and of Wismar. She had been brought up as a boy, a future king of the realm. The unfortunate thing was that her education had been trusted upon her mother, who admittedly was very far from a dependable or stable person.

 

Maria Eleonora of Brandenburg had been deeply in love with her husband and lover, Gustaf Adolf of Sweden. She had been the most beautiful queen of her time. She had possessed all the virtues and vices associated with her gender. All she had wanted was to bear a proper heir to her husband. She hadn’t appreciated her gender non-appropriate daughter. After she had given birth to Christina, she had cried: “instead of a son, I am given a daughter, dark and ugly, with a great nose and black eyes. Take her from me, I will not have such a monster!"

 

After the birth of the princess, the queen consort had grown sullen and easily irritated. And poor little Christina had not escape unharmed. There were various incidents, one of which would leave her shoulder forever injured. The princess was quickly removed from her mother and placed to her aunt’s family. 

 

Unfortunately, no one had had the foresight to put out with a plan in case something were to happen to the king.

 

In hindsight, it was not that far-fetched that the death of her husband would drive her mad, unable to process his death. What had been completely unexpected was that amidst this all, the queen dowager had fetched her daughter and brought her to the castle where they kept the corpse of the king.

 

When Sweden and count Oxenstierna had found the queen and the young princess after the king’s death, the queen still believed he was alive

 

Later, Finland had gently tried to ask Sweden what had happened in that castle that day. For the longest time, Sweden looked like there were no words to describe what he had witnessed that day. He only grew even more silent than normal and his lips pressed together to form a taut grimace. Much later, he had finally opened up in the darkness of their bedchamber. He had told about the king, months into decomposition; about the dowager queen, focusing on her needle-work and chatting away like it was simply any other Saturday. And at last, about the little princess, sitting in the corner, eyes wide but her mouth a grim little line, like she had learned not to ask any questions.

 

Sweden and count Oxenstierna had locked the dowager queen away, and the little princess had been taken away by Sweden and count Oxenstierna.

 

Sweden doted on the little girl. It was apparent from the start that she was… different. Finland sometimes wondered if it was her undoubtedly weird upbringing or perhaps simply something she had been born with. But little Christina was not like other girls. Sometimes Finland couldn’t help but wonder if she truly was a girl after all, or something else entirely, like the court gossip liked to imply.

 

But she was headstrong, brave and intelligent. Christina was a great rider and hunter, yet she had a true passion for reading and learning. She was everything a monarch should be and then some. But she still was just a girl and no one ever let her forget it.

 

Sweden had thrown himself into his work, more passionate than ever to bring his land to the 17th century. Finland mused to himself that Sweden was trying to use his workload as means to forget everything that had happened.

 

But for Finland, and for Estonia, and every one that now resided in the Swedish household, all was finally well. Sweden was rarely home, choosing to stay at the Royal Palace in Stockholm to help bring up the princess and to help Lord High Chancellor Oxenstierna govern.

 

Finland was happier than he remembered been… well, for a long time. He felt like he had gotten his family back. They had all grown up. For Ingria, it was as if she grew taller in just one night, and she seemed to be all awkward limbs, like a new born fowl. But she was still herself: tomboyish, loud and fair. Karelia was older, also. But she had grown more adult in more ways than one: she had never been too brash or quick to anger, but she had grown even more maternal and thoughtful.

 

Estonia had not changed much, though Finland wasn’t sure if it was the truth, or if he just couldn’t see it since they were so inseparable these days.

 

And then there was Latvia. Finland had been very surprised when Sweden had returned from Livonia after a successful campaign with Latvia in tow. Sweden had acquired much of Livonian lands after a war with Poland-Lithuania. But it had still been this meek little boy who had come to live with them and not Livonia. Finland had first been sad and confused about this turn of events, wanting to see Livonia after so many years. But after it became certain that this was the way it was going be, Finland had quickly accepted the small country in their midst. 

 

All was well. Until that one fateful night, when everything changed.

 

* * *

 

 

It was a dark and stormy winter evening. Finland, Estonia, Karelia, Ingria and Latvia had just finished supper when Sweden unexpectedly came home. 

 

“Sve!” Finland had exclaimed surprised. Sweden had left for Stockholm earlier in the morning and he was supposed to be gone few days at the very least. “We didn’t expect you back this soon! We already ate, but there’s still some left, I can bring some food from the kitchen if….”

 

Then Finland saw something was very, very wrong, and he shut up. Sweden shrugged off his snowy winter cloak and let it fall crumpled on the floor. He stepped towards the table and leaned on it. The tall land seemed hesitant, unsure how to begin. His mouth opened few time and then closed like he wasn’t quite sure how to say the thing he needed to say.

 

“Livonia is dead”, he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. Still, everyone heard him just fine.

 

Finland gasped. No, it couldn’t be. In his mind eye, he saw Livonia as he had last seen him: tall, golden, beautiful. He couldn’t _dead_. Livonia had almost been like a personification of life itself, he had _oozed_ health. Someone like that simply could not be _dead_.    

 

“How?” Estonia asked. His voice was eerily calm and steady, like he was discussing weather.

 

“See for yourself”, Sweden simply said and gave Estonia a crumpled note. He then sat down, hard, like he didn’t have energy anymore to keep himself upright.

 

Estonia gently pried the note open and scanned it. He then lifted his eyes and fixed his steady gaze at Sweden like he could extract more information from the other nation.

 

“This is it? He just… wasted away? He just _gave up_?”  Estonia asked. He was still oddly composed.

 

Latvia started to sob then, the reality apparently catching up with the younger land. Karelia was quick to rise from her seat and rushed where the small country were, wrapping him in her embrace.

 

Finland felt numb. He looked at Sweden who had slumped in his seat, his eyes locked on the table unwilling to meet anyone’s eyes. Finland briefly wondered if he blamed himself, since he had just recently waged war on the Livonian ground… But these thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud wail.  

 

Latvia was now pouring his eyes out, his slight frame shaking from his strong sobs and gasps of breath. Karelia was hugging him, trying her best to console him. She gently stroked his hair while murmuring something softly in Latvia’s ear he seemed too overwrought to hear. Finland saw Karelia was crying too.

 

Ingria sat still, though she had gone very pale. After a while she stood up and silently moved where Karelia and Latvia were and simply put her hand on Karelia’s back. Karelia glanced at her and instantly seemed to realise what the younger girl was asking, needing. She disentangled her other hand from where it had been, circled around Latvia and gestured at Ingria to come closer. She wasted no time, and Karelia happily complied, wrapping both of them in her arms.

 

Finland averted his gaze. He felt like he was intruding on something private. He instead turned his head to look at Estonia, who was still stonily staring at the piece of paper in his grasp.

 

“May I?” Finland asked the, needing to read the news himself. Estonia obliged and handed the note over.

 

 _Livonia’s dead._ It said in hastily written scrawl. _I know you don’t care, but your minions still might._

 

Then the letter continued, though this time in noticeably clearer handwriting which obviously had been written by someone else.

 

_I’m sorry. Livonia had been sick for a while now. I think he didn’t have a will to live anymore. It was peaceful, in the end. Tell Latvia I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for him._

_Lithuania_

 

“Oh”, Finland said in spite himself. A drop of something fell on the note and smudged the ink. Finland raised his hand to his cheek and realised they were wet.

 

“Oh”, he said again. He was crying. How on earth did he not notice? He hastily dabbed the note with the sleeve of his linen shirt in order to save the note from becoming indecipherable.

 

Then someone grabbed his hands and wrapped his arms around him. Sweden.

 

“I ruined the letter”, Finland said. He sounded very odd, even to his own ears. He could feel the tears running down his cheeks now, but he felt strangely hollow inside.

 

“Shhh”, Sweden simply hushed him. “It’s not ruined. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

 

Sweden lifted Finland in his arms like he weighted nothing, and off they went. Finland absentmindedly noticed Ingria, Latvia, Karelia were gone, too. Only one left was Estonia, still sitting where he had been all this time, unmoving, staring at nothing.

 

* * *

 

 

Finland woke up later, unsure how long he had slept. All he knew he had passed out almost immediately after Sweden had carried him in their bed. Finland knew it something he would normally be embarrassed about: Sweden taking care of him like he was a helpless child. But right now, he couldn’t spare any energy to feel indignant.

 

Finland sat up and almost groaned. His head was absolutely _pounding!_ And his throat felt parched. In fact, everything felt sore. He glanced at Sweden who was lying beside him, dead asleep.

 

 _Darn_ , Finland thought. Right now, he would have loved if Sweden was awake and there to fuss over him. But Sweden was in deep slumber.

 

Finland watched the tall land mumble something unintelligible in his sleep and he couldn’t help but smile softly, despite all. It was a good thing Sweden could get some rest, no matter his own selfish wants, no matter the current situation. Sweden had looked undeniably exhausted for a while now. It must be tough job trying to protect, govern and reform an empire while trying to help raise the future ruler of the said empire.

 

Finland sighed. While some of these problems were of Sweden’s own making, direct results of his recent policies of aggressive expansion, Finland wasn’t heartless enough to not feel empathic towards the man who clearly was taxed too thin trying to manage it all.

 

And Livonia’s death… Finland felt a bang in his heart at the thought. Sweden had seemed to take Livonia’s death pretty hard. Finland couldn’t help but wonder why. The passing of their kind was always a sad affair, true, but Sweden had not liked Livonia. In fact, Finland had always thought that Sweden had almost despised the other land. Did Sweden blame himself for Livonia’s death? He had after all fought a lengthy and bloody campaign against Poland and Lithuania on Livonia’s soil.

 

 _Well, if he did, he shouldn’t_ , Finland thought. And in any case, the blame wasn’t solely on Sweden. Finland had fought there, too. So had Ingria and Karelia. And Estonia had helped, even if he hadn’t directly taken part in the fighting.  But not once had they seen Livonia there, in the battlefields, like they had expected. They had only seen Poland, Lithuania and Latvia.

 

Finland had not visited Livonian lands in centuries, so obviously things were bound to be different. But how much had changed had still shaken him. And what’s worse, only once or twice during their drawn-out campaign had he heard Livonian spoken by the locals. Estonia had explained that the language had all but disappeared from the southern Livonia, taken over by Latvian and even Estonian. Its speakers had either fallen in the near constant warfare or reoccurring plagues, or simply assimilated. Only few places remained in the coast where the language remained dominant. 

 

Finland didn’t know if Sweden had even seen Livonia during the later peace negotiations. Sweden had gone by himself, after muttering something about ‘not trusting Poland to parley honorably’. Which at the time had seemed quite frankly moronic to Finland. If Sweden couldn’t trust Poland, wouldn’t it be better to have more people there in case the other nation tried something? But, well… as always, it wasn’t Finland’s call to make.

 

And in the end, Sweden had returned from the peace talks with a brand new treaty and Latvia quietly following behind him. At first, Finland had tried to pry about Livonia from Latvia, but his questions had obviously upset the short country and it had seemed cruel to continue to inquire. Later Finland had learned through Estonia that Latvia was just as much in the dark about Livonia’s whereabouts as they were.

 

And just as he had thought about Estonia, Finland remembered how his friend had looked the last time he had laid his eyes on the spectacled nation. He had completely forgotten about Estonia. Poor Estonia! He had been closest to Livonia – perhaps even a brother – even if he had always denied any special connection. Estonia, who had been left alone to grief; who had simply sat there, staring at nothing…

 

Finland lifted the heavy quilt aside, now feeling resolute in about finding Estonia to offer his support. And of course in the same time, he felt absolutely wretched that he had not thought to console his friend from the start.

 

But before he had time to rise from the bed, Sweden suddenly started to breathe heavily in his sleep and his eyes started to rapidly move behind his closed eyelids. Finland knew these were the signs that Sweden was having a nightmare. He placed his hand on Sweden’s chest and murmured comforting words. After a while, Sweden relaxed and his breathing deepened again.

 

Finland watched him for a short time to see if he was alright. When he saw that Sweden was now back to sleeping calmly, he rose up and quietly exited their bedroom.

 

As Finland walked down the dark hallway towards the room of Estonia, his mind turned back to Sweden. Finland knew Sweden rarely had nightmares these days. So either he was just really exhausted or Finland was right about him taking Livonia’s death hard. Though he still couldn’t understand _why_.

 

He thought back on about the times he had witnessed Sweden and Livonia interacting. There had not been many of those and they had been so long ago. They had both been headstrong lands, equals in strength. Finland could not help but compare how Sweden had acted with Livonia with how he still acted with Denmark. Sweden seemed to butt heads with anyone who was his equal and not afraid to show it.

 

Finland paused. That was it, wasn’t it? Livonia had been Sweden’s equal, long ago. Sure, Livonia had not been that for a long time now, but still. They had once been evenly matched. And now Livonia was dead. Finland thought back on how he had felt, long time ago when he had lost first of his kin. Vepsia. Finland hadn’t thought about him in a very long time.

 

It was awful how he couldn’t remember what the other land had looked like. As hard as he tried, he could only conjure a hazy image of a short and slightly pudgy child with curly, blond hair. No face though. He had forgotten Vepsia’s face. He felt another bang in his heart.

 

He shook his head. It didn’t matter. He hadn’t forgotten completely, and _that_ was what mattered. Finland started to walk again.

 

But he still felt like he cracked the case. Sweden was probably feeling his own mortality. If someone like Livonia could wither away and die, it wasn’t completely out of the picture that something similar could happen to Sweden.

 

 _Though_ , a stray thought suddenly hit Finland, _it was still much more probable that that certain incident happened to lands like Vepsä._

He felt cold sweat breaking out.

 

_And lands like me._

 

He shook his head again, trying to force those unnecessary thoughts out of his head. He paused again, having reached his destination. Finland stood in front of the door to Estonia’s room.

 

He knocked quietly, not trying to wake his friend if he was asleep. No answer. Finland opened the door slightly and peeked inside. He could see enough in the dark to realise that Estonia’s bed was still made, unused. So Estonia had either never went to bed at all, or had already woken up.

 

Finland closed the door and started to walk towards the kitchen. His head still hurt and he was still thirsty. He decided to sort these problems out first and only then try to figure out where Estonia might be.

 

His traitorous thoughts circled back to Livonia, to Estonia, to Sweden, and to Vepsia. His earlier ‘revelation’ seemed so silly now. How arrogant of him to think he figured out the reason for Sweden’s behaviour, when in fact it was simply his own fear he had projected.

 

And he was afraid. Livonia was dead. Vepsia had been dead for a long time. How many more of them would die? How many of their people?

 

Finland shivered. He needed to do something. He needed to become stronger. For his land, for his people. _For his own survival._    

 

But he was a weak land. Stronger than he looked, yes, so everyone always underestimated him. But his land was a periphery and while his people were tough and honest, they were few and far between. He needed to grow stronger. That meant he had to find a way to help his people to grow stronger.

 

Finland walked into the kitchen, deep in though. He almost reached the table in the middle until realised he wasn’t alone.

 

Finland let out an involuntary gasp in surprise. Then he forced himself relax.

 

“Viro? Is that you?” he asked the darkness. There was just enough light coming from the embers in the stove to see someone sitting by the table on the other side of the room.

 

Only a mumble answered his question, so he went to put some more wood on the stove and then lighted couple of oil lamps. Now that there was enough light to see something, Finland turned to look at table again. And sure, it was Estonia. Estonia was slumped in his seat, his ash blond hair a halo around his face which was planted firmly on the table. And he was quite obviously hugging a bottle of booze.

 

“Viro, are you _drunk_?” Finland hissed, and then immediately cringed.

 

 _Geez Suomi, what a brilliant deduction, you are simply_ on fire _tonight_ , Finland admonished himself in a way that reminded him of Livonia’s quips. 

 

“Mmmphhm”, Estonia answered.

 

“Right”, Finland said and walked to right next to his friend. He tried to pry the bottle from Estonia’s grasp. “Let’s get you to bed, shall we?”

 

But Estonia lifted his head then, and Finland saw he wasn’t as drunk as he first thought.

 

“I don’t want to go to bed. I want to drink. I want to sit here. And I will.”

 

“Come on… Think about how you will feel tomorrow? Better call it quits now and go to bed.”

 

Estonia turned his head to look at Finland. His face was red and puffy, but Finland couldn’t tell if the culprit was simply the alcohol, or if Estonia had been crying…

 

Estonia grimaced, like he could read Finland’s mind and see what the other land was thinking and find the conclusion lacking.

 

“You know I don’t sleep”, Estonia said, now quietly. “I’d rather wait for the morning here than in my room. Here, I have something to drink to pass the time.” At this, he looked at Finland with an expression that reminded him of a pleading puppy. Finland sighed. He knew he was giving in. And sure wasn’t going to leave Estonia here alone again, no matter how poorly he felt.

 

“Then pass me the bottle”, Finland said, resigned. Maybe the booze would help with his throbbing headache? Finland fetched some water from the bucket and took a few gulps. He had been thirsty, after all. And booze notoriously only made you thirstier. Then he sat next to Estonia.

 

Estonia passed the bottle and for a while they drank in silence. 

 

“I’m sorry”, Finland finally said, “for leaving you here, alone.”

 

“Don’t be. I know you liked Liivi. I know it must’ve been… hard, for you. To hear about what happened to him.”

 

“Hard for me?” Finland almost shrieked, shocked to hear Estonia talk about Livonia – Estonia’s closest neighbour, his kin, his brother – like this, like his death was an inconvenience at worst, a thing to celebrate at best. “How can you say that? I know you _must_ grieve him!” 

 

“ _Must I_? Must I really, Soome?” Estonia retorted. His voice had gone really low. It sent chills down Finland’s spine. “You have no idea what I went through because of him. You have no idea. And I’m glad you don’t. I’m glad you only have neighbours and family who love you and want you.”

 

“Viro”, Finland whispered, “I know you two had your… differences. But he was one of us, was he not? I know he cared about us. I know he cared about you.”

 

“Then he had a funny way of showing it!” Estonia growled. Finland couldn’t help but shrink back a bit. Estonia saw this and his eyes grew stormy.

 

“You don’t want hear this, do you? For you, _us_ meant safety and only _they_ , the others, meant danger. Not even all of them, mainly Russia. Well, for me it was never that. Liivi was never safe to count on. And boy did it cost me to learn that lesson. I don’t even know how many times he sold me out. And it certainly was not because it was a matter of life or death. Oh no, Liivi did it because it suited him, because it got him an advantage. Liivi wasn’t some saint and his death sure won’t make him one!”

 

Finland looked at his friend in silence. Estonia was red in face, panting slightly after his rant. His eyes were clear, though, and there was a hard glint in them. Finland thought this was so unlike of Estonia. He was sure that his friend didn’t really mean all this. Yes, Livonia and Estonia had had their troubles, and apparently more than Finland ever realised. But they were still kin. That had to count for something, right? And Estonia wouldn’t act out like this if he didn’t care at all.

 

“How can you say that? He was your brother. I know Häme and I won’t see eye-to-eye most of times, but I still don’t know what I would do if I lost him…”

 

“What’s between you and Häme is completely different from my relationship with Liivi!” Estonia shouted. “Häme might be childish jerk at times, but at least he’s still all there! Liivi wasn’t! You _can’t_ compare them! _Liivi_ wasn’t my _brother_! He was never my brother no matter what he liked to say when it suited him – no, when he tried to _manipulate_ me! _You_ can’t understand because you weren’t _there_! Because –”

 

Estonia’s rant had taken a desperate, almost hysterical tone, and Finland tried to grasp his hand, to try to soothe his friend, but Estonia swiped his own hands away.

 

“No! You _don’t_ understand. And you will never understand!”

 

“Viro…” Finland pleaded, though not quite sure what. Please stop? Please don’t be mad at me? Please forgive me for leaving you alone all night when you clearly were hurting…?

 

Neither spoke for a while. Finland didn’t know what to say. And Estonia looked like he had so much to say at once that he didn’t know where to start. The silence was only broken by Estonia’s harsh breathing. Then Finland realised something his friend had said.

 

“What do mean, he wasn’t all there?”

 

Estonia grimaced.

 

“I mean when I left him, he was a raving lunatic with a sadistic streak. Not that him having a sadistic streak was nothing new. Even you know that. But it got so much worse…”

 

Estonia turned his eyes away like he couldn’t bear to look at Finland anymore.

 

“You know how Latvia’s all shaky and shy?” Estonia said after a lengthy silence, now sounding weary to the bone. “He wasn’t always like that. He was bright and happy, once. I don’t know what Liivi did to him. I wasn’t there to witness it. Luckily.”

 

Estonia sighed deeply, his stare fixed somewhere far, far away.

 

“But I know how he was with me. And you know – _you know_ , I know you do – Liivi had a way with words, he could cut you down without even trying. So trust me, add little madness to the mix, some good old physical violence. Let me tell you, it wasn’t pleasant.”

 

And now Estonia turned to look at Finland. His gaze was hard, his eyes glinting like a pair of precious stones in the soft lighting provided by of the oil lamps.

 

“So, no. I don’t miss him. He made stupid decisions after stupid decisions, and every time it was time to face the consequences, he’d rather push Latvia or me under the wagon. Anything to escape the harm he had caused. He was delusional, power hungry and he never cared about anyone but himself.”

 

Estonia was silent for a while. Then he took a long swig of the bottle, like he was gathering courage. Finland thought he had had enough to drink and neatly plugged the bottle from his friend’s hand. Estonia let him.

 

“I’m glad he’s finally dead”, Estonia whispered, at last. But he didn’t look like he had looked earlier. There was no hard glint in his eyes this time around. Instead he looked like he was barely holding on. “He deserved to die.”

 

Finland gasped. He stared at Estonia with wide eyes. This… this wasn’t his friend. He _knew_ Estonia. And Estonia he knew wouldn’t wish anyone _dead_ , no matter how much he had been wronged.

 

“You don’t mean that”, Finland started to say, almost pleading the other land to take back what he had said. But Estonia’s expression soured.

 

“ _Shut up_ ”, Estonia hissed, “You don’t get to tell me what I do or don’t mean. You don’t understand because you were _never there_ , with me. You think you had it hard? You don’t know what hard is. You only had deal with Sweden, and he loves you, he would do anything for you. You are _spoiled_!”

 

Now Finland felt like Estonia had crossed a line. He wasn’t spoiled! His life hadn’t exactly been a cakewalk, no matter what Estonia seemed to think.

 

“I’m sorry that you feel that way, but –”, Finland started to say, but never got to finish his sentence.

 

“You don’t get to say you’re sorry!” Estonia screamed, and sat up. He swayed a bit, but managed to stay upright. “I don’t want your pity, I don’t want your –”

 

“What’s going on?” a voice still heavy with sleep asked from the kitchen door.

 

Finland and Estonia both stared at Sweden like a couple of deer caught in the headlights.   

 

They spoke at the same time.

 

“Oh great”, Estonia mumbled and swayed so badly he almost fell, “just what I need”.

 

“Nothing!” Finland piped up in a voice he probably thought was cheery but in reality was more like a panicked shriek, while trying to his very best to hide the alcohol bottle behind his back. It was just that his best in his intoxicated state just wasn’t very good effort.

 

Sweden looked at them blankly for a long time and then let out a long-suffering sigh. He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose like he was silently praying for some extra patience to deal with the situation.

 

“I’m going to bed now”, Estonia announced and plucked the bottle from Finland’s grasps. “And I’m taking this with me.”

 

Without any further ado, he left the kitchen.

 

Finland stared at Sweden. He felt annoyed. His head still hurt. The world spun. And he could see the question forming on Sweden’s face as surely as if the other country had actually spoken it aloud.

 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming back to bed.”

 

* * *

 

 

Next morning, things were subdued and tense. Estonia stayed in his room. Just as well, Finland thought. He probably too had a hangover that made their normal morning routine, such as eating breakfast, impossible. It didn’t help that Sweden looked at him like he was silently judging and thinking ‘you reap what you sow’. Finland glared at him and decided to give up trying to feel normal. He went back to bed.

 

But things never went back to normal. When Estonia finally emerged from his room he was silent and sullen. When Finland tried to talk to him, Estonia simply walked away.

 

Things were clearly not fine. Estonia avoided him and waived away Finland’s attempts to talk things through, or even to have normal conversations. After a while, Finland simply gave up, figuring Estonia would approach him when he was ready.

 

And if that wasn’t enough, Finland couldn’t stop thinking about what he had figured out earlier that same night. That he was weak. That his land was undeveloped. That his people had less than they deserved.

 

And whenever he thought about it, thought about how to fix it, all he could hear about was Estonia’s voice mocking him how he had it so easy because Sweden _clearly_ loved him. He still didn’t agree. But he couldn’t deny the grain of truth that was hidden in his friend’s toxic comment, either. Sweden did like Finland. And more importantly, Sweden wanted Finland. It hadn’t helped him, or made his life easier like _some people_ seemed to think, but Finland couldn’t deny that he had something Sweden wanted. And that was something he could give in exchange of making things better at home.

 

And then there was the other voice, Sweden’s, telling him that no, _he didn’t want Finland in that way, in exchange of something_.

 

But Sweden had not made any effort to better the eastern part of his Kingdom, no matter his promise. Sweden still left him out. Oh, now he got to fight alongside of him and travel with him. And it truly was better than sitting at home, worrying. But Sweden had promised him he would give Finland what he wanted, what he needed, if he simply asked for it.

 

Sweden had not.

 

Finland knew now was the time. Sweden was making reforms anyways, so why not make few dozen more? And Finland wasn’t stupid. He knew that Sweden would give him everything he wanted if he gave Sweden everything the other land wanted.

 

In the end, it wasn’t exactly a difficult decision. Finland had made up his mind.

 

* * *

 

 

Finland decided that he would act the next time Sweden came home. But it was as if Sweden had somehow read his intentions, for he stayed away. Finland knew it was a coincidence. Sweden couldn’t possibly know. And yet, he felt increasingly anxious. Not to even mention how lonely and miserable he felt, too. Estonia still avoided his company. Karelia and Ingria spent all their time trying to either console or cheer up Latvia.

 

Finland wasn’t just lonely, he felt isolated. Gods, he had most of his family there with him, yet he felt lonelier than ever.

 

I took five days before Sweden returned. And when he did, Finland felt so grateful that he almost leapt in to embrace him. Sweden was surprised at his, and rightly so. Finland rarely initiated any contact after all.

 

“Are you alright?” Sweden asked, sounding alarmed.

 

“Yeah, everything’s fine”, Finland said, but immediately realised how phoney that sounded even in his own ears. _Nothing_ was _fine_. He sighed, and tightened his embrace, trying to bury his face in Sweden’s clothing so the words he was about to say wouldn’t feel so raw and needy. “I missed you. It’s miserable here. I don’t want you to be away so often, and for so long. Or if you have to, take me with you.”

 

Sweden was silent. Finland decided he could risk a glance to see what the other land thought of what he had just said.

 

Sweden was staring at him with wide eyes. He looked like he wasn’t sure if should be more surprised or concerned. But when their eyes met, Sweden visibly relaxed and he smiled softly at Finland.

 

“Come”, he said and gently tugged Finland forward, “let’s go our room”.

 

Finland followed Sweden silently. He sat on the bed and let Sweden take off the stuffy court clothes in peace.

 

“Are you still fighting?” Sweden asked cautiously while folding the clothes into the trunk.

 

“Fighting?”

 

“Yeah. You and Estonia?” Sweden clarified.

 

Finland was silent for a short while. “We’re not fighting, not exactly. He just doesn’t want to talk to me”, Finland finally said. And immediately wanted to kick himself at how childish he made it all sound.

 

“He will, at some point”, Sweden tried to comfort him. It did not work.

 

They fell silent.

 

“Sve?” Finland finally said, not standing the silence anymore.

 

Sweden didn’t answer, but he sat on the bed close to Finland and watched him expectantly.

 

“I really did miss you”, Finland whispered.

 

“Oh.”

 

 _Oh? What kind of answer is that?_ Finland thought. He decided he must have failed to say what he really meant and rushed to explain.

 

“I mean not only because I can’t talk to Viro. Or because everyone is still too much in grief to talk to me. I mean I really, really do miss you when you are gone. And I miss you when I’m trying to sleep and you aren’t there. And when I have something to say, even when it’s not important, and – hah – it usually isn’t. But I still think of you in those moments. How I wish you’d be there. So what I’m trying to say is –”

 

He never got to say what he was trying to say. Sweden had simply grasped his hands and kissed him silent.

 

 _Oh,_ Finland thought, completely surprised. Then he thanked his luck Sweden had decided to shut him up with a kiss _._ He had no idea where he had been going with his weird little monologue. Then his mind went blank and all he could focus on was the warm mouth on his own.

 

The kiss was soft and gentle and oh so warm. Finland didn’t want it to end. Then Sweden opened his mouth softly begged an entry. And Finland obliged. And suddenly the kiss wasn’t soft and gentle anymore, it was wild and demanding. But Finland still didn’t want it to end.

 

Then he realised Sweden’s hands had left his hands and were traveling at his sides. The touching and the kissing felt amazing, and almost too much at the same time. His own hands were tightly gripping Sweden’s shirt, and he decided to relax their grip and let them wander, first touching the taller land’s arms, then sides, then neck… Sweden groaned. Finland decided it was the most exciting sound he had ever heard.

 

Sweden kissed him hungrier, rougher. It started to feel a bit too much. Then Finland felt Sweden grab his backside and that broke whatever charm he had been under. This was definitely too much, too soon. He pushed Sweden away.

 

It was as if Sweden had been under the same spell, Finland could see how he visibly came back his senses.

 

“I’m sorry”, Sweden said and blushed. “I didn’t mean it to be so…” He looked like he was grasping to find the right word, but fell silent again when he failed to find one.

 

Finland couldn’t blame him. He didn’t know what to call it either.

 

“Don’t be sorry”, Finland said and tried his very best to smile, but his eyes remained downcast. Now that the moment had passed, he didn’t feel brave enough to meet Sweden’s gaze. “I liked it. It just went too… erhm, you know, like it went”, he finished sheepishly, his words failing him.

 

Sweden didn’t say anything, but when Finland glanced up, he nodded. Finland thought he looked almost relieved.

 

Finland didn’t feel like pushing his luck. Sweden was bound to put two and two together and come to a right conclusion if he started making request right after a kissing him. So he went to bed. Sweden followed him and shyly touched his back, like he was asking if it was still okay to touch him normally after they had done something so out of their norm. Finland turned around and hugged Sweden. The tall nation didn’t lose any time to wrap the younger one in his arms.

 

All seemed well again.

 

Finland heard Sweden sigh contently and the other land fell asleep almost instantly. For him, it didn’t take that much more. 

 

Next morning, Finland happily noticed Sweden had decided to stay home.  

 

* * *

 

 

Little by little it seemed the Swedish household got over the gloom that fallen over it after the news of Livonia’s demise had hit them. But things were not the same. Estonia still avoided Finland. Finland, now deeply missing his friend decided to let bygones be bygones. He tried to patch things over and apologise. But Estonia brushed his attempts aside, insisting it was fine, that there was no need. But things were not _fine_. It was as if an impregnable wall had suddenly sprung between them.

 

One morning, Finland simply could not deal with it all anymore. He practically begged Sweden to take him to court with him so he could escape the suffocating atmosphere of their home. And Sweden obliged, happy to have some company on the road.

 

Finland didn’t like the palace. He had never liked the court. He had always felt like an outsider there. He felt like he was always too young, too plain and too skittish to really blend in. He felt like he didn’t belong in any way. Yet, there was not denying he was more important than any pompous statesman with a too big of a wig, or a court lady with a dress made of silk embroidery and layers after layers of taffeta. And more importantly, despite his appearance, it showed.

 

So people stared. Very few people these days really knew who, or rather, what he was, or even who Sweden really was. But the people of the court weren’t stupid. They knew, or sensed, that there was something odd about them, that somehow Sweden at least was just as important as their young queen. So stared they did.

 

But today, Finland thought few stares were a small price to pay compared to situation waiting him back home. So he followed Sweden quietly, intent of staying out of the way.

 

They met with the High Chancellor Oxenstierna and the queen. And Finland had to take a second look. Gone was the timid little girl Finland remembered. She was a young lady now, although not a very proper one. She was crassly joking with Sweden like they were long-time friends – and truly they were. But Finland had never seen Sweden act so… familiar with a monarch before. Sweden if anyone had always had very high sense of propriety. To see him be so at ease with someone was an eye-opening experience for Finland. He had missed all this when he had stayed home, simply happy to be surrounded by his family.

 

He quietly listened when they discussed the reforms. He learned that they were more extensive, grander than he had anticipated or dared to hope. In fact a ‘reform’ was an understatement. What they were planning on achieving was something very few countries had: a constitution. 

 

Finland was surprised. He had had no idea that this was what Sweden had been working on these past years. He wanted to know more, eager to discuss it all with Sweden.

 

It was hours later when he had the chance.

 

“Sve, why didn’t you say anything? About the constitution?” Finland asked when they were walking back home.

 

“I didn’t want to… before it was going to happen”, Sweden admitted.

 

“So does that mean it’s definitely going to happen now?”

 

“I don’t think anything is ever sure in politics. But I hope… no, I really think it will.”

 

Finland smiled. Sweden sounded so happy to able to finally share all about this. Finland looked at him, really looked at him. Sweden still looked exhausted. He was dressed immaculately as ever, but there were dark rings under his eyes and his face was oddly pale, even for winter. But there were also a new fire in his eyes, like he was finally seeing his hard work bear fruit.

 

Finland felt something primal in the bottom of his belly. Suddenly, he wanted to kiss Sweden. And feeling unusually brave, he decided to do just that. Finland rose on his toes and planted a quick kiss on Sweden’s lips.

 

“I’m really happy for you”, Finland whispered. Sweden looked at him, his eyes wide like he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. He brought his hand to his lips and absentmindedly brushed his finger where Finland’s lips had been just a few moments ago. Then Sweden smiled, and it seemed like his smile washed away all the signs of his exhaustion.

 

“Will you show me the drafts? Later?” Finland asked. Sweden looked like he would say yes to anything right now. And for a short moment, Finland thought this might be the time and place to make some demands.

 

“Yeah”, Sweden said, his voice almost breaking in the middle, something that had not happened in years. He cleared his throat. “I’ll show it. Tomorrow. Explain it, too.”

 

Finland nodded and smiled, and decided to leave it there. He shouldn’t rush it.  

 

They walked back home in comfortable silence. It was late when they got back. The house was still and silent. Finland was glad of it. He didn’t have energy to act like Estonia’s behaviour didn’t bother him right now. Instead he ate a late meal with Sweden. He didn’t really even taste the dish; his mind was preoccupied by other thoughts.

 

He thought about what he had seen and heard tonight, how he had missed everything that had happened in the court while he had been staying home, happily surrounded by most of his family. And only now, when things at home had gone haywire, could he see what else he had been blind to.

 

The constitution: it was important, sure. But even more importantly, it could offer new opportunities. Opportunities he had promised himself he would exploit given the chance for the good of his people.

 

His thoughts were interrupted when Sweden stood up and started to walk towards their room. Finland followed, thinking hard if he should say something now, or leave the matter for tomorrow. He debated with himself, until he realised Sweden had already changed his clothes and went to bed.

 

 Finland let out a defeated sigh. It was no good. He had failed to start the conversation he didn’t really want to have, but still desperately needed to, sooner rather than later. He followed Sweden, and went to bed.

 

But Finland couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t stop thinking about what he had seen and heard today. What this new constitution might mean for him, for his people. How he had no idea how he should approach the subject. How he had managed to tell himself that every moment had been wrong to say anything about it.

 

 _I need to just say something_ , he thought, _just something, so I can’t back out anymore._

 

“Sve?” Finland whispered into the darkness, not expecting an answer. Or rather, he was secretly hoping Sweden wouldn’t reply, since Sweden was still and his breathing was deep and even. But to his surprise, Sweden hummed something back that might’ve been a question – or maybe he had just mumbled in his sleep.

 

“Are you awake?”

 

“Hhmmpmh.”

 

With Sweden, it was difficult to tell if that was sleepy yes or a random grumble.

 

“Could we talk?”

 

Now Finland felt the mattress shift a little as Sweden turned to face him. It was pitch-black, though, so he couldn’t actually see anything. Finland didn’t mind, In fact, it was easier for him to speak in the dark when he couldn’t see how Sweden would react.

 

“I think we should… I mean – I thought we could… be more”, Finland finally managed to get out, and then cringed. He was just glad the room was as dark as it was, so Sweden couldn’t see his red face. He had never felt more embarrassed in his life.

 

“What do you mean?” Sweden finally asked back. His voice was still heavy with sleep, but at least he sounded like he was finally fully awake.

 

Finland didn’t really want to continue, but knew if he now fell silent, he probably would not be brave enough to try again.

 

“Just, more. Of everything. I want that constitution, too. I want to be involved. I want to see you more. I…” Finland’s voice faltered, but he pushed onwards. “I want to be together with you. Not like what we are now. I want to be more.”

 

Sweden didn’t answer him, but he did blindly grope in the dark until he found Finland’s hand and brought it to his lips. Finland felt a pair of soft lips touch his fingertips. Then Sweden whispered something so softly, Finland almost missed it.

 

“I – I’m dreaming, right?”

 

 Finland didn’t really know what to answer to that so he didn’t really say anything. Instead he mimicked Sweden’s gesture and brought the taller land’s hand to his lips and kissed it.

 

“Oh”, Sweden murmured and stayed still for a short moment, like he didn’t quite know how to react. He withdrew his hand and sat on the bed. Finland heard him fumble with the oil lamp on his nightstand. And truly enough, soon the room was lit by a soft glow.

 

Sweden turned to look at Finland. Finland felt like he wanted to run away, or at the very least, completely bury their conversation.

 

“You are going to be more, I promise. So am I. I made the new law so”, Sweden said while staring intensely in Finland’s eyes.

 

Finland was startled. He had not expected that.

 

“And the others…?” Finland asked. The constitution would mention them too, right?

 

But Sweden averted his eyes and Finland felt a bang in heart. So he would get preferential treatment, yet again. And the reason he would be treated better was because Sweden liked him. Wanted him. Even… loved him? That’s at least what Estonia had insisted. And right now, Finland felt like everything Estonia had said was true. He might not be spoiled, but he was better off. Not because he was better, stronger or smarter, but because his... _owner_ preferred him to his other possessions.

 

Something awful and cold went through him and settled into his heart. Finland felt numb. Outwardly, he forced a smile on his face.

 

“That’s… good to hear. But I meant us. I want us to be more. Like a man and a woman would. I mean, I know we aren’t, but… if it was possible”, Finland stuttered. And when Sweden was still staring blankly at him, he swallowed his embarrassment and just blurted out: “I meant marriage”.

 

“You want to get married?” Sweden asked incredulously, like he was having trouble believing what he had just heard.

 

“Well no”, Finland said defensively. He knew that wasn’t possible. “Just something… similar. Without the law and church.”

 

“But you want to get married?” Sweden asked again, but now he looked cautiously hopeful.

 

“Well yes”, Finland said. But he didn’t want just that, and he knew he needed to make sure Sweden understood what he was really going after. “But I want to be treated just… better. I want to be an equal. And I want my land and people treated like equals, too.”

 

Sweden stared at him intensely, but he didn’t say anything. Then he stood up and rummaged through his bag in the corner. He pulled out a parchment and sat down back on bed.

 

“This is the final draft. This is how the constitution is going to be. Tell me if this is acceptable for you?” Sweden asked. He sounded oddly nervous as he presented the official looking scroll to Finland.

 

Finland didn’t answer. He glanced at the text. There was a lot of it. A lot of regulations and rules. To be honest, he did not really understand it all. He knew he should probably read it through, and _thoroughly_. But he couldn’t summon the will to concentrate on it now.

 

“You want me to read it now?”

 

A funny look crossed Sweden’s face then. It was like he debating himself. And it must have been a grave inner debate if it was showing on _his_ face.

 

“No”, he said at last. “You can read it later. The relevant part is paragraph 46.”

 

Finland skimmed through the text until he found what he was looking for.

 

" _No one, who is not living inside the separate and old borders of Sweden and Finland, have anything to say at Riksdags and other meetings..."_ he read aloud.

 

“It means… no matter what laws the estates must decree; they will be the same in your lands as they are in mine. Your people will have the exact same rights as mine have.”

 

Finland paused to think.

 

So, Finland’s people would be treated equally under the new Instrument of Government. It was what he had wanted. But Finland had expected something more _tangible_. What did equal treatment mean when most of his people – the common people – were poor, and his land an undeveloped periphery?

 

Sweden must have seen that he was not satisfied, for he rushed to add: “…And I’ll appoint a new Governor General… And give him full mandate for reforms. I’ll bring your lands on par with mine.”

 

Finland looked up to him, trying to see if the other land was actually earnest. It sounded to him like Sweden had just made up this promise on the spot. Then again, did he really the luxury to look the gift horse in the mouth? Finland almost snorted. No, he would take what he would get. He didn’t have any grand delusions about his worth. Sweden might want him now, and he might be willing to throw him a bone to get what he wanted, but Sweden might just as easily withdrew his offer if he grew frustrated with Finland’s demands.  

 

“Then I accept”, Finland said, and smiled. It didn’t come easily, but seeing how Sweden whole demeanour brightened, he supposed it had looked convincing enough.

 

* * *

 

 

Finland approached the bed cautiously, like it could bite him at any moment. He was being ridiculous, he told himself. This was the same bed he had slept in for centuries, now. It was a simple yet sturdy king-sized bed, the one that Sweden had crafted with his own hands right after they had fled Denmark. This was literally the last thing on this earth he needed to fear.

 

And yet, everything had changed. Now, this wasn’t a simple bed anymore, meant for just sleeping. Now, it was practically a _marital_ bed. And no matter what Sweden or Estonia thought of him, Finland wasn’t _that_ ignorant; he knew very well what it meant.

 

It had been a long day, this ‘wedding day’ of theirs. Not that Finland – or anyone with a half a brain – would actually refer this day as such.

 

It had been a week since Finland had said ‘yes’. After that, Sweden had stayed busy and distant, and only returned home to sleep. Finland had wondered about that. The tall land had not once touched him, or even spent time with him like he normally did. At times, Finland had wondered if Sweden had chickened out and wanted withdrew his unquestionably generous offer.

 

And then, just as Finland had started to feel anxious about the whole ordeal, Sweden had approached him with arms full of papers and plans and planted them on Finland’s lap. And when Finland had shuffled through them, he had been absolutely amazed.

 

They had not been some hastily drawn up empty promises, offered just to placate him. There had been plans for new towns, for new businesses like sawmills and foundries. There had been even a plan for a university! A university! For him! For centuries now, his people had had to leave his familiar shores to foreign countries if they had wanted to acquire education. It had been almost dizzying to imagine they might soon not need to do that! How many more could then afford education? How many more could then help build a functioning, civilised society? Finland had felt almost giddy to even think of the possibilities.

 

And at last, Sweden had presented the final draft of the new Instrument of Government solemnly, like it was something sacred to him. It had soon become very obvious that ‘sacred’ was exactly what it meant for Sweden, as the tall land had started to explain what changes the piece of paper would bring with it and what those changes would mean for the people and for their nation. 

 

“Is this what you wanted?” Sweden had asked at last. He had sounded nervous, like he had been a little bit afraid to hear the answer.

 

Finland had simply nodded, even if the things Sweden had offered were more than he had ever dared to hope.

 

Sweden had leaned over him then and ever so slowly pressed his lips on Finland’s forehead. It had been a soft, almost a chaste kiss. All the same, it had made Finland blush.

 

“Can I…” Sweden had started to say but then had seemed to lose his confidence half way. Then he had taken a deep breath and continued with a shaky voice: “Can I come to you, tonight?”

 

Finland’s heart had skipped a beat. Not wanting to trust his voice yet not willing to lose all the tempting offers Sweden had dangled before his eyes, he had simply nodded again, his eyes firmly locked on the floor.

 

Suddenly Finland heard a sound behind him that brought him out his reverie and he rushed to the bed. It had be Sweden, here to claim what belonged to him by any law and right. Finland burrowed into the bedding and listened, heart beating like mad.

 

 _Don’t be stupid_ , he told himself. _You knew this would come. You knew what would happen._ Yet, there he was, clutching the quits like they were armour that would protect him. Acting like a virginal maiden….

 

Finland forced himself to let go of the heavy quilts and took a deep breath. He wasn’t some powerless girl who had been forced to marry! He had _chosen_ this! So it was time to show some god damned spine and take the consequences like a man!

 

“Fin?” Sweden asked the darkness. Finland had blown out every candle.

 

“Y-yes?” Finland asked back, barely managing to keep his nerves in check.

 

But Sweden didn’t say anything more. He had probably just wanted confirmation that Finland was, in fact, in the room. Finland could hear his steps, closing in. And then he felt the movement on the bed as Sweden sat on it.

 

Finland could almost hear his heart trying to escape through his rib case. Sweden must have heard his pounding heart; he simply must have, for it drowned every other sound in his own head. He clutched the hem of his night shirt, now that he had let go of the beddings.

 

But Sweden didn’t move, didn’t try to touch him, so after a while, his heartbeat started to normalise and he let got of the death grip he had on the hem of his night shirt.

 

Sweden sighed. It was an odd sound in the deafening silence that had grown between them. Finland was perplexed. This was what Sweden had wanted for all these years, wasn’t it? So why wasn’t he overjoyed? Why he was not taking what Finland had allowed him to take?

 

“We don’t have to do anything”, Sweden said then. He sounded quiet but absolutely resolute.

 

Finland sat up on the bed, mouth open and ready to argue. Like hell he would allow Sweden to withdraw his offer at this point! But before he managed to voice his thoughts, Sweden groped the bed in the dark until he found Finland’s hand and brought it gently to his lap.

 

And before Finland fully realised what was going on, Sweden had put a ring on his hand and gently bent Finland’s fingers until the ring was in the safety of Finland’s closed grasp.

 

 “I – I wanted to give it to you tomorrow. As a dower”, Sweden whispered and then sighed, “but you’re scared.”

 

Finland took a quick and loud breath, offended at Sweden’s remark. He wasn’t _scared_. He was… cautious. Anyone would be, in his shoes. And being cautious was a _good_ thing. You shouldn’t rush into these things…

 

But before Finland had a chance to articulate his thoughts, Sweden continued: “I see it. I know you don’t want me to see it, but I do. I told you once you didn’t have to do anything for something that was mine to give. I meant it, Tino.”

 

Finland let out a breath he had not even realised he had been holding. In the dark and silent room it sounded loud and raspy, even to his own ears.

 

Finland tried to make himself relax through sheer will alone, though failing spectacularly. Then, after realising his efforts had been in vain, he simply decided to power through regardless.

 

“I know”, he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

 

And he did know it. He knew Berwald would never hurt him, Tino, knowingly. But their situation was far from some simple love story where a strong and silent young man liked – perhaps even loved – another young man. They were countries, and Finland couldn’t ever forget that.

 

Sweden might consider Finland a part of the realm, even a part of himself, but the lands on the eastern shore of the Baltic Sea still weren’t the core, the heart of Sweden. That was Stockholm, the capital and the administrative centre in Svealand and the fertile southern Götaland that kept it fed and functional. And Finland knew – just as surely as he knew he had nothing to fear from man named Berwald – that Sweden would abandon him in a heartbeat if it was the only way the tall land could save the heart of his Empire from life threatening danger.

 

Finland had passively waited long enough. He had seen how Sweden had ignored Finland’s land in favour of his own. He might not be strong enough to demand the resources his land and his people desperately required, what they _deserved_ after centuries of unwavering loyalty. They had fought and bled for Sweden, and they had gotten no boon in return. 

 

So he would do whatever it took to get what he needed. And to get what he wanted, he would say what Sweden needed to hear.

 

Finland let out a breath he had not even realised he had been holding. In the dark and silent room it sounded loud and raspy, even to his own ears.

 

“I- I…” Finland started to say, but fell silent when he realised he didn’t really know what he was even about to say. He sighed and tried to gather his thoughts. He knew Sweden would not force him. That was something he knew he _never_ had to fear from the taller nation. But right now, for him it would be so much worse if Sweden saw through him, and decided to send him away in disgust. So Finland couldn’t help but be nervous, yet determined to go through with it.

 

“I’m just nervous”, Finland whispered aloud. It was true, after all. Not all of the truth, no. But weren’t half-truths at least better than an outright lie?

 

Sweden didn’t answer straight away, but Finland felt him squeeze his hand in comforting manner.

 

“I do want this”, Finland said. It sounded so hollow he almost cringed. He swallowed and tried again: “I do want… you”. No, that was even worse. Gods, why was his voice so damn monotone? Like he was listing groceries instead of trying to convince Sweden he wanted to be intimate with him.

 

But Sweden interrupted his bumbling reassurances with a soft kiss. It was more like a brush of lips against Finland’s, but it was enough so the younger land knew he didn’t need to continue his unfortunate, unconvincing explanations. Finland kissed Sweden back, sighing contently. Luckily for him, Sweden wanted this so much he was ready to explain away every mistake Finland made that might’ve normally clued him in that the younger country was not actually as eager as he pretended to be.

 

The kiss continued soft. Carefully, Sweden shifted on the bed closer to Finland, and lifted his hands behind Finland’s back, pressing him gently closer. At the same time, he deepened the kiss. It was firmer now, but still soft and unhurried.

 

It seemed Sweden really wanted to take his time. So much so that soon Finland was making little impatient sounds. A part of Finland was content to take it as slow as Sweden possibly might want. But the other part – the anxious part – just wanted to get it over with.

 

Finally Sweden obliged. Finland could feel how Sweden’s hands travelled down his back and rested briefly on the small of his back, like Sweden was hesitant to continue. But he did eventually continue, and Finland felt a hand squeeze his buttock while the other was trying to tug the hem of his shirt.

 

Finland pushed Sweden away and took off his shirt. He heard rustling sounds coming from where Sweden was and guessed the tall land had followed suit. Finland felt a hesitant hand touch him by his throat, then more firmly as it travelled down his stomach, all the way to his lap. Then Finland was mortified to realise he was still completely soft.

 

“Sorry… Nerves”, he said shakily when Sweden withdrew his hand. Luckily the room was still dark, so he didn’t have to see the expression on Swede’s face. It was an embarrassing situation enough.

 

“Don’t be sorry, it’s okay”, Sweden whispered and kissed him. It did make him feel a little better.

 

Then Sweden grasped his arms and pulled him to his lap, kissing him again, now a little deeper. Finland yelped in surprise, but the sound was swallowed by Sweden’s kiss. Then he relaxed, and started kissing back in earnest.

 

Finland realised he was sitting on Sweden’s lap, and he could definitely feel _everything_. Sweden’s bare skin under his thighs and hands, his hard member pressing against his ass. He couldn’t help but moan at the thought.

 

When Sweden heard the sound, he doubled his efforts. Finland could feel his hands stroke and pet every inch of his body, while he kissed all over the younger land’s neck and throat. And when Sweden’s hand found its way back to Finland’s lap, there certainly wasn’t any softness this time around. Finland’s mind went blank as Sweden’s hand curled around his shaft. All he could focus on now was the sensations generated by the leisured strokes.

 

It was great. No, better than great. Definitely better than when he had hurriedly touched himself in the past, whenever he had gotten the chance to be alone. Finland was barely aware he was moaning constantly now, practically begging Sweden to speed up. And Sweden obliged.

 

“Oh!” Finland gasped when he suddenly started to feel the familiar tightness. He was already on the brink of coming apart, and they had just started. He put his hand on Sweden’s arm to make the other land slow down again when the orgasm hit him out of nowhere. He went silent and still, only feeling the sudden peak of pleasure. He let out a gasping breath and slumped against Sweden’s chest, feeling so tired now it was as if he was suddenly left boneless. But Sweden didn’t seem to mind at all. He wrapped the smaller land in his arms.

 

When Finland’s panting started to even out, Sweden kissed him again on the mouth.

 

“Good?” he asked. Finland wasn’t really ready to have a conversation yet, so he only nodded. Sweden kissed again and gently lifted him up and laid him on his side on the bed. Finland felt him reach for something in the dark but then he returned to Finland’s side and started to kiss his neck again.

 

Finland relaxed under his kisses, still riding the wave of his recent climax. But when felt Sweden’s fingers around his entrance, he was jolted rigid.

 

“Shh”, Sweden whispered, trying to calm him down again. “You want to stop?”

 

No he did not. Not when this was almost over, and it certainly hadn’t been bad this far. Maybe this next part wouldn’t be as bad as he thought, either. Now he just needed to settle down and stay still just a little longer before it was done. He forced himself to relax.

 

“No, keep going.”

 

And Sweden did. It didn’t feel… bad, he decided. Just weird. Sweden’s fingers were slick for some reason. Finland supposed it helped with the process. He didn’t really understand how someone could feel pleasure from _this_ , though. Then the fingers withdrew and something bigger was taking their place. He felt Sweden slowly push himself inside. And this time, _it hurt._

 

A pained gasp escaped his lips and Sweden immediately stopped.

 

“No, _keep going_ ”, Finland repeated, now intent on getting this over as quickly as possible.

 

And Sweden did exactly as he was told. He kept going until he was entirely inside the younger man. He stilled again. And just as Finland was about to irritably ask why the other land was stalling again, he started to move. And with the first proper thrust, Sweden let out a breathless moan. Finland was surprised. It seemed it felt _a lot_ better to be on the giving end of this act.

 

After the couple of slow thrust, Sweden picked out the pace. Finland buried his face in pillow. It didn’t hurt that much anymore, the pain was more like a dull ache now rather than a sharp stab it had been just a moment ago. But it was still far from a pleasant feeling. He just wanted it to be over.

 

Luckily for Finland, it didn’t take long before he got his wish. Sweden thrusts grew erratic and shortly after the other land froze and groaned. Finland felt a hot wetness inside him. That… wasn’t bad, he had to admit. Not as bad as the rest, at least.   

 

They stayed like that for a while, until Finland felt Sweden plop out. He felt the wetness leak out, too, and grimaced. Sweden was still breathing harshly, but the other land still planted a kiss on the back of Finland’s neck and gently petted his arm.

 

 _That_ , at least, felt nice.

 

“Sorry”, Sweden whispered. Finland wasn’t sure if he was apologising for the short time he had lasted or maybe that he had hurt Finland. Maybe a little from column A and a little from column B. Finland uttered a sound that he thought was as close to ‘don’t worry about it’ as he could say at the moment. In reality, it sounded more like a noncommittal grunt. 

 

Sweden sighed and wrapped his arms around Finland like he always did before bedtime. And sure enough, only a short while later, Sweden’s breathing evened out and he fell asleep.

 

Suddenly, Sweden’s embrace felt oppressive and suffocating and Finland felt like he couldn’t take in any air. Finland pried Sweden’s arms off of him carefully, making sure he wouldn’t wake the young man sleeping behind him, and sat up.

 

A sudden, shooting pain in his backside just then almost made him gasp aloud. It was gone the next second, just as quickly as it had come. Only dull, throbbing ache was left of its wake. Finland glanced at Sweden who was still sleeping soundly next to him. The sight made him shudder, though he did not know why. He had _chosen_ this. It had been _his_ choice and no one else’s!

 

But he couldn’t silence the small voice in the back of his mind. Was it going to be like this from now on? He was afraid to think what the answer might be.

 

Suddenly he felt like he was suffocating. Finland gasped for air, but in the same time tried to keep silent as not to wake Sweden.

 

 _Breathe. In and out. Again. Just breathe_ , he chanted in his mind, closing his eyes and focusing only getting his nerves under control again. But it was no use. He couldn’t stay here any longer.

 

Carefully, not wanting to wake Sweden and trying to be mindful of his rather sore backside, he put some clothes on and left their room. 

 

He stood outside their bedroom door trying to get his sudden shakiness under control. But it was no good. His heart was beating awfully hard, his chest hurt and he was absolutely drenched in sweat. For a brief moment he wondered if he was having a heart attack, but he dismissed the thought almost instantly. He was a country. A _young_ country, even. He had never heard anyone of their kind having had a heart attack.  

 

But he decided he couldn’t really stay in the hallway either. What would he explain to Sweden if the other country woke up and came looking for him? That he was just admiring the intricate details of the corridor wallpapers in the dark – and in the middle of the night! – while having a pseudo heart attack, but things were great? Obviously! He sure wasn’t regretting anything that had happened earlier, either!

 

Just the thought of that hypothetical exchange made Finland’s heart pound even worse. He had to get away.

 

 _Kitchen!_ he suddenly thought. At least there he had some plausible deniability. He might’ve just been thirsty or hungry, there was plenty of reasons to go there during the night. So he started to walk towards his destination. He paused, briefly, when he saw light coming out the kitchen. He carefully peeked inside, not really wanting to meet anybody.

 

What he saw there was like he had walked right in the middle of déjà vu. There Estonia was, sitting in the same exact spot he had sat all those weeks ago when they last had had their nightly rendezvous. He was hugging an alcohol bottle, too. And as much Finland was still plagued by his own problems and intrusive thoughts, one question still managed to triumph above all.

_How?_

Sweden had carefully confiscated all spirits from the house and hidden them away after their previous night-time drinking session. How on earth Estonia still had managed to find more booze?

Estonia lifted his head then, and his frown told Finland all he needed to know how the other country felt about seeing him standing there.

 

“Oh great”, Estonia slurred, sounding barely intelligible, “just what I wanted”.

 

“Sorry, I’ll just go”, Finland gasped back, not wanting to pick another fight. Not right now, not when he just wanted to hide from everyone.

 

But he saw the scowl leaving from Estonia’s face and being replaced by reluctant concern. 

 

“What’s wrong with you? You’re really white”, Estonia said and quickly stood up. He swayed, badly. It seemed the other land was way more drunk than he had been the last time around. He leaned heavily against chairs and table, but still managed to cross the room where Finland was standing.

 

“I don’t know”, Finland managed to force out despite feeling like he was having trouble getting enough air, gasping for it like a fish on dry land. “I just… I – I’m… I – ”

 

But Finland never succeeded in explaining anything more when he was suddenly crying, and now he truly felt like he was suffocating, tears and snot streaming down his face and blocking his nose.

 

And then he was being fiercely hugged by his friend. First, it made it worse. It was hard enough to breathe without being crushed by a drunkard. But apparently alcohol gave Estonia some strength he normally lacked, for Finland couldn’t shake him off. He just wanted to run away and be alone, but Estonia was apparently having none of that.

 

Then just as suddenly he felt completely exhausted and his knees gave out. Estonia, being drunk out his mind, couldn’t really hold them both up when he had barely managed to stay upright without all that dead weight in his arms. They unceremoniously fell on the floor with a one swift swoop. Finland landed right on his sore backside but barely noticed any pain.

 

Estonia still didn’t let go. Instead he gathered Finland in his arms. Estonia started to gently rock both of them back-and-forth and sing something so softly that Finland had no idea what it was supposed to be. But after a while, he realised he wasn’t sobbing and gasping as much, so whatever it was, it was working.

 

Slowly, Finland felt like he was getting his harsh breathing and his bawling under control. Finland had no idea how long it had took. It felt like ages. And he felt weary to the bone, like he had just come home from a full day of fighting.

 

But now it started to feel awkward to be held like an infant.

 

“I think I got over it now”, Finland whispered.

 

Estonia fell silent, but Finland could feel him nod against his shoulder. Then he let go and with great difficulty, managed to rise from the floor. He walked to the table – well, zigzagged was probably more accurate, since he almost fell several times on the way – and plopped back down where he had sat earlier.

 

Finland rose up, too. But he stood awkwardly where he was, not knowing whether Estonia wanted him to leave or not. But then Estonia raised his bottle and looked straight at him, and Finland saw the invitation there. He lost no time sitting next to his friend.

 

Now he felt the pain in his backside as he sat down, though, and winced. Estonia looked sharply at him but didn’t say anything and instead simply held out the bottle. Finland gratefully took the bottle from him. He took two massive gulps straight away, feeling like he needed it now. Then he passed the bottle back.

 

“Thank you”, he finally whispered, eyes fixed on the table. Estonia nodded again and took a swig. He probably shouldn’t, Finland thought, since he already had so much trouble just staying upright. But he didn’t feel like being a nag or a mother hen right now. Estonia knew what he was doing. Probably.   

 

“How did you know what to do?” Finland curiously asked before he could help himself. He had never felt anything like that before, and he readily admitted he sometimes was a bit of a cry-baby.

 

Estonis shrugged his shoulders.

 

“You were just panicking. I’ve seen it before. Latvia, when he was younger. Me, sometimes”, Estonia finally admitted, alcohol clearly loosening his tongue, since he had never previously talked about any of this.

 

Finland looked at him in surprise. He started slowly to realise there was so much he never knew about his friend. Then his mind wandered to the conversation they had all those weeks ago in this very same room. What Estonia had just said compared to what he had said then… Now, it started to finally make some sense to Finland. 

 

“I… I really owe you an apology”, Finland said, timidly at first, but then continued with more confidence. “About what I said back then. I didn’t really understand. I still don’t. Perhaps I’ve had it too easy, so I’ll never really get it. But I shouldn’t have told you what you should feel. I’m sorry.”

 

Estonia didn’t answer at first, he simply took another gulp. But then he sighed and gave the bottle back to Finland.

 

“You don’t need to say you’re sorry”, Estonia insisted quietly, like he had been saying all this time. But Finland didn’t want to hear it, not now. He wanted them to become proper friends again.

 

“But I _am_ sorry! If don’t want to hear it, then tell me what can I do to make it up to you!”

 

“You don’t need to say anything, or do anything. Everything’s _fine_.”

 

“But it isn’t! _Nothing’s fine_! You’ve been avoiding me! And I need you, you hear me? I’ve been miserable!”

 

“And you think I’ve been, what, _happy_? You think I wanted this?” Estonia finally hissed back, now clearly starting to lose his temper too.

 

“Then why did you avoid me?! I tried to say how sorry am was, but –“

 

“Because I’m ashamed!” Estonia shouted, and then promptly shut up, swaying in his seat, eyes wildly going around the room, but not really focusing on anything. He looked every bit as if he was utterly surprised by his own drunken outburst.

 

Finland was surprised, too, but still pressed on.

 

“Ashamed? Of what?”

 

There was a green sheen on Estonia’s face now and he glared at the table. He looked positively ill. Finland sneakily glanced around the room to see if there was a bucket or something around if the bespectacled land started to heave. But then Estonia answered.

 

“Of what I said back then. About you. And I.” Estonia paused. Then he grimaced, like it was physically painful for him to continue. “A-About Liivi.”  

 

“You didn’t mean it then? What you said about his death?” Finland asked cautiously.

 

Estonia raised his red rimmed gaze and looked straight into Finland’s eyes.

 

“No, I meant it”, he whispered, and as he said it, his face started to crumble. “I meant every word. He deserved it. _He deserved so much worse_.” And then the tears started fell down his face. His arms were wrapped around himself like he was trying to shield himself from his own words.

 

Finland rushed to hug him like he had just moments ago hugged him.

 

“Viro, please don’t cry, hush, please. It’s okay, it’s okay”, Finland mindlessly babbled, trying to sooth his friend. It didn’t matter what he said, though. It was apparent that Estonia either could not hear, or simply did not care to hear what he had to say. He was a little bewildered when he realised how quickly their roles had reversed. The comforter had become the comforted.

 

“He hurt me, Soome. I trusted him, so many times… like a fool. And he hurt me every time I told myself if it was going to be different, _this time_. And then the bastard hurt me again, by dying! Why did he _die_? Why _him_? He was the strongest of us, the oldest. What chance do we have if there’s none for him?”

 

They were hard questions to answer, especially while being drunk and tired in the middle of the night. Finland didn’t know what to say, but Estonia probably didn’t expect him to have any answers anyway. Finland wasn’t even sure if it was the alcohol that was making him talk. It might’ve just as well been something he had wanted to talk about in the past but had not known how.

 

So he let Estonia sob quietly in his arms, and instead stole his friend’s earlier method of comforting. He started to sing. It was more like a mindless humming than anything else, but it did seem to help. After a while, Estonia’s tears finally stopped and he calmed down, but he still did not let go. Finland didn’t mind. He had missed this feeling of having his friend wrapped in his arms.

 

“He hurt you”, Estonia mumbled against his shirt.

 

“What?”

 

“Sweden. Hurt you. I saw you wince when you sat down. I think I know why”, Estonia said.

 

Finland froze. Suddenly he didn’t want to be so close to Estonia anymore, but he could not just push the other land away, either. Gently he pried off Estonia’s grip on his shirt and helped him back to his seat.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”, Finland finally said dismissively and looked away, wishing that the other land would take the hint and drop the subject. But Estonia just sighed and continued like Finland hadn’t said anything.

 

“I knew what he wanted. And now he got it. I wish you didn’t do it.”

 

“Well, that’s the other side ‘of having it _easy_ ’!” Finland hissed and immediately regretted it. He shielded his eyes with his hand. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

 

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say you’re sorry. I did say that, earlier. I didn’t really mean it either”, Estonia said, his slurring now even worse. It was hard for Finland to even make out the words. “But I wish you didn’t have to do something you don’t really want.”

 

Finland didn’t know what to say that, so he remained silent, wishing Estonia would now shut up. Unfortunately, Estonia still had a lot to say.

 

“I know it’s not easy. Different maybe, but not easy. We all do our best to help things back home, any way we can. You just have more sway. I don’t blame you, I don’t judge you… but I wish you didn’t have to do it, not this way.”

 

“But… you did say… back then, in Lützen. You said to me I should at least – that I should… profit”, Finland managed force out the last word. He felt his cheeks redden in embarrassment. Estonia looked away.

 

“Yeah. I did. And I stand behind it”, Estonia said and suddenly let out a short, bark-like chortle. “I know it’s a paro… para – paradox.” Then he started to hiccup.

 

Right. Finland decided then and there it was time to for Estonia to go to bed. He rose from his seat, put the bottle away and then carefully helped Estonia up. The other land didn’t fight it, just leaned heavily against Finland instead when they made their way to Estonia’s room.

 

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to do it for love. I am. I’m not just jealous or anything. I want you to be happy. And I do wish you will be happy. I know I love you, right?” Estonia mumbled in Finland ear as the shorter man half dragged, half carried him inside the room.

 

“I know. I love you too”, Finland whispered and unceremoniously dumped Estonia on his bed. Then he pried off his shoes and tried to tug him in. But Estonia was having none of that. Instead, he sat up again and grabbed Finland’s arm.

 

“No. You don’t get it. I mean I love- _love_ you. I’m _in love_ with you. I always have, before I was even old enough to really get what the feeling was.”

 

Finland froze and his mouth formed a small o-shape, but no sound came out. Estonia stared straight at him, oddly intensely compared to just a moment ago, when he had barely managed keep his eyes fixed on anything.  

 

“Oh”, Finland finally said. And just as the sound escaped his lips, he knew it was the last thing anyone in Estonia’s position would want to hear. And truly enough: his friend averted his gaze and slumped on the bed, looking defeated. He lifted his hand to shield his eyes. Finland couldn’t see if he crying. He hoped not.

 

“Viro, I –“, Finland started to say, but Estonia cut him off.

 

“No. I don’t want to hear it. Please, just go and leave me.”

 

And Finland did. He walked to the door and uncertainly turned to look back one last time. Estonia was lying down now, his hand still on his face.

 

“Sorry”, Finland whispered. He didn’t know to react to something that had quite literally taken him completely by surprise. But he knew how he reacted had been all wrong. Estonia didn’t deserve that. But right now, it was too much. He need time to think. To come with terms with this new reality. Too much had changed, too quickly. He turned to leave. Just as he was closing the door, Estonia spoke again.

 

“You… you don’t have to worry. It doesn’t change anything. I’ll still be here. Still be your friend. You don’t lose me, ever.”

 

Finland felt like a weight had been suddenly been lifted from his shoulders and let out breath he didn’t even realise he had been holding. He didn’t quite dare to look at Estonia again, but he needed to tell him that at least in this, he felt the same.

 

“And you don’t lose me, either”, Finland said. Then he closed the door and walked back to his own room.

 

He slipped inside, careful not to make any noise, and took off his clothes again. Sweden was still sleeping. Thankfully he had turned in his sleep, his face now facing the other way. Finland was grateful for that, at least. He lay down on the bed, as far from Sweden as possible.

 

He thought it would be next to impossible to fall asleep after all that had happened. But he was so exhausted that he was practically out of it as soon as the side of his face hit the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative title could be: 'What a buch of drama-llamas'. Hopefully you all feel as awkward reading that sex scene as I felt when I wrote it. 
> 
> Now, time for some proper chapter notes. If you want to know more about the historical events or people mentioned in this chapter, search for
> 
> Christina, queen of Sweden  
> Axel Oxenstierna  
> Instrument of Government (1634)  
> Dominions of Sweden
> 
> from wikipedia. If you check out what the wikipedia page says for the status of Swedish dominions, you'll notice I copied the translation of the constitution I used from there. Yes, it actually says that. 
> 
> And finally I want to address the elephant in the room. How do you apologise for when you post a chapter after over two years of media silence? You really can't. I don't really want to offer any excuses, either. Sometimes life just slaps you around so hard you just have take it as you go and return to normal when you can. For what it's worth, I'm still not abandoning this story. We're over halfway there. Hopefully I haven't lost all my readers. Now, I have the next chapter almost written, so you don't thankfully have to wait too long to read it. Certainly not two years.
> 
> Lastly, I want to sincerely thank everyone who has left a comment. I have gotten so many great compliments and encouragements. Thank you. You really helped me to continue writing.


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